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My whole life is flashing before my eyes. In just one day, I will be flying (que the dramatic music), to FLORIDA! My first time on a plane! Everyone tells me that your ears hurt when you first take off, and that is making me nervous. But when I was looking in to my past, I uncovered a memory from when I was 5 years old. It is a funny one, and strange. So I hope you enjoy, and I hope you can tell me that flying on a plane is not that bad.

When I was 5 years old, I had just heard of zombies. And I just heard of NERF guns, and I got two of them. But I thought that it would hurt to be hit with them, so I thought outside the box. Remember, this is so extremely bizarre. You probably won’t have single relation with this and your life, due to how bizarre it is.

My friend Cosmo wanted to shoot zombies with NERF guns. But I didn’t know how to make a zombie. So I thought, and I thought, and I thought. After about an hour of drawing, planning, and cutting, I had made two life sized zombies made out of paper. They both had hats, short sleeve shirts with no actual arms, and long pants with just shoes, no legs. You may wonder if this is inappropriate for a little kid. I don’t know, I’m pretty sure it is. I’m saying this because the zombies had scars and blood. He also had menacing looking eyes. So I’m just going to come right out and say yes, they were inappropriate. So we did end up playing with them. It went well, but afterwards, a terrible thought went through my mind. “What are we going to do with them?” Cosmo left, and I had to spend my first night with them. I thought it wasn’t going to be bad, but then I realized that they were terrifying in the dark!

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I swear, throughout the whole night I put my blanket over my eyes, and stared at the zombies as they were sitting in a chair. That whole night, I sat there, and stared. Then in the morning, I realized I had to do something about the zombies. I can faintly remember being in a tent with my friend, Ryan. I brought the two zombies out, and my plan started to leap in to action. Ryan went inside to pee, and he came out a minute later. But he looked all around the yard, but he couldn’t find me. All he could find was an incredibly creepy zombie paper at his door, and paper shreddings scattered around his yard. Meanwhile, at my house, I ripped on of the zombies legs off. I went insane with fear. I threw the books everywhere, smashed a mirror, and worst of all, left the water running! There were more details, but I can’t remember them. But after I decided that destroying the house wouldn’t kill it, I went in to action. I grabbed it, and started shredding it. I ripped it in to shreds. Annihilated it. There wasn’t anymore of that zombie to be seen. But, there was one flaw in my plan. The trash truck doesn’t come on Saturdays!

That night, I woke up at 3:00, the dead hour. I looked around, and it was storming out. Thunder was clapping so incredibly loudly. Rain was pounding against the roof. And suddenly, the door swung open.

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I thought my life was over. I thought the zombie shreds would come out and kill me. But there was so much I didn’t do! I never ate a cheese burger. I never stopped drooling. And I never conquered the zombie paper. But it was too late. It would come out, and kill me. I was terrified. I’m pretty sure there was one point where I heard someone walking down the halls. I also heard chains, maybe Jacob Marley was paying me a visit? And there it was. That was the end, as so I thought. And right when I let out a scream, my dad appeared through the door frame. “Charlie!” He said. “You’ve been screaming all night! What has gotten you so spooked?”

A couple of nights after that I was wary of the paper zombie. After a couple more visits from Jacob Marley, I found out that the garbage truck did come. And my fear of the paper was over. I had conquered my fear. I poked it in the eye. I faced death itself, and won. I felt so great. For a couple of weeks, I practically owned everybody. Through my point of view, I could tell people my story, and they would do anything I say to lead in to my footsteps. For a couple of weeks, I was a god. And no-one, I repeat NO-ONE, could bring me down.

Looking back on this was one of the strangest things I have ever seen. I mean, I’m looking back on this and saying “What was wrong with me back then?” I guess I will never find out. I hope you enjoyed, if that is possible.

Wish me luck on the airplane. I will post again before we go, but if I said it 3 times, I might as well say it again. Wish me luck!