I watched a horror movie one Thursday called Popcorn. It was a story about a skeleton that murdered students who went to movie theatres to watch movies. I found the movie to be a bit boring. In fact, it was so boring that I slept. The next day, which was the 13th, I hung out with my friends. All of a sudden, a skeleton popped up in front of us with an axe. We screamed and ran. The skeleton kept chasing us. “Run, run!” I screamed. The skeleton, which was glowing, killed all my friends. Then the skeleton disappeared.
I told the police about it, but they laughed and called me crazy. It took me some time to forget about the skeleton and overcome my grief.
Five years later, it was Halloween. It was also the Friday the 13th. I was dressed as a dead ghost. I was driving to a Halloween party when the skeleton popped up and said, “At last we meet again.” I rushed out of the car and screamed for help, but no one came. The only way to defeat this creature was by facing it. I turned to look at it sternly. The skeleton, seeing my courage, screamed as he began to melt until he was no more. I went back to my car and drove to the party and enjoyed myself.
My superstition had been that Friday the 13 means bad luck, but not anymore. The only way to defeat fear is to stand boldly against it.
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