If I were
to make a potion that I would later trick someone into drinking, it would have
to be a mute potion. My reason being that people talk way too much as it is but
there are always those set groups of people that talk way over the top, and
besides who needs a voice anyways? Everyone has a phone anymore that they could
just text on if the need arose, but I suppose it would sort of suck if their
phone battery died. Although, they wouldn’t be able to complain about it and that
is all that matters. I do suppose though, that I could be a little bit less
harsh and just make a sleeping potion, because that would still yet enable them
to make audible noise, they would just be asleep. My final potion would be a
love potion, so that anyone that I desired to have would fall into my arms
carelessly, without all of that awkward get-to-know-you business.
The
best costume that I have ever worn was really not even a costume at all. Ever
since seventh grade I have been told countless times that I look just like the
famous teen idol Justin Bieber. I used to believe that it was just my long hair
that swished around my head and curled at the ends from being ‘flipped’ so
much, but even today, short hair and all, I still get told that I look almost Identical
to the pop singer. One day in eighth grade, my friend Chase and I decided to go
to the annual Halloween Pub Crawl with his family in order to scope out all of
the odd costumes, crazy performers, and drunken people. I was not feeling
extremely festive this year so all I brought to this festival of horror was a
clown mask that I had since last year, and I hardly even wore it because it
smelt like old latex. Before I knew it, everyone around me would shout out
things such as “Hey look, it’s that Bieber kid!” or “Let’s get a photo Justin!”,
and I carried on by saying that my costume was indeed the infamous Justin
Bieber.
I was
putting on my Halloween costume when I heard something move inside my closet.
This was odd considering that the only things I have in my closet are clothes,
but this sounded like a tennis ball had hit the wall inside of my closet. Upon
this realization a cold chill rushes its way up my back at the thought of what
this mysterious sound might be. Before I investigate my closet I pop my head
out of my bedroom door, and call for my mom to confirm that she is still home,
she replies with a “Yes, Honey?” and I tell her that I was just checking. As I
close the door of my bedroom, preparing to turn around and face this noise, I
feel a brush of cold air stream across my shoulder, as I turn around my eyes plummet
into a darkness that overtakes my entire body. Neither a yell, nor restraint
would have stopped it, and then I am gone.
