For those of us that love to read, we can all think of the book that got us addicted to reading.

My love for reading was born at a young age, thanks in most part to my aunt and my mom.

My aunt would give me a new book nearly every time she saw me, and my mom would read to me every single night as a child.

I still remember the first chapter book we read together, The Lion, the Witch, and

the Wardrobe. I was in fourth grade when we first entered Narnia, and while some parts of the

book scared me, I mean, the white witch was awfully mean and the sacrifice of Asland was pretty

graphic. I still remember begging my mom to read just one more page before turning off the light.

I've always been a fan of fantasy books.

I think that's because they take me into a world that I know isn't real,

and my imagination is set free to create the images of a world beyond my own.

But not every story is like that, and not every reader falls in love with books like I did.

Sometimes it takes longer for one to find that love for reading. Maybe a bit of maturity is needed

to fall in love with the words that are written across the page. Sometimes it takes the right

person introducing you to the right book. I think that's why I love teaching English so much.

I love the moment when a reluctant reader would beg to read one more

page before dismissal, or when I'd suggest a book on Library Day, and two days later, that student

would be back with a finished book, and they had found that love for reading. I saw that love for

reading reignited in several of my high school friends by my English teacher.

Some of the stories we read in her class were imaginative, but most were so realistic that we often wondered if those sets of events might happen to us one day. I know as we read the Great

Gatsby, my teacher watched a room full of students fall in love with reading again.

And it's because while I was researching,

I discovered that the man in today's case

...