11:57 a.m.
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There are some men in this world who possess such incredibly divine character. The ones who stand above all the rest. They hold qualities (kind eyes, sincere smile, an overall positive attitude) that send a comforting message to whoever interacts with them. However, this cannot be said about all men. Imagine someone so repugnant that just the sight of him will cause you to cross the street, in fear of being mugged. This man gives the impression that his favorite activity is leaning against a lamppost flipping a nickel. With a fedora placed on his head, ever so slightly tilted, it unavoidably grants him the suspicion of those who encounter him. Eyebrows like steep slopes shoot down towards a pair of dark eyes that reflect his blackened heart. His eyes... No other pair could chill someone right to the bone. They shine, not with joy, but with an intimidating glare. In escaping this unnerving gaze, one might hope to find comfort elsewhere. Not a chance. A crooked grimace of a smile barely shows across his dirty, unshaven face. There is nothing friendly about this man. One would do best to avoid him.
9:46 a.m.
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It was a dark, Halloween night as Chelsea and I peered out of the bushes towards the eerie old house looming over us. It was said to be haunted. We were dared by a group of schoolmates to sneak in and spend the night (they had to choose a night colder than a witches toe!). Chelsea was sweating bullets as we crept nearer and nearer to the front door. But I was as cool as a cucumber as I told her, "don't have a cow, there's nothing to be scared of". Although, as we came closer to the front door I, too, found myself more nervous than a cat in a room full of rocking chairs. I grabbed a stick off the ground and held it upright. Chelsea looked at me questioningly. "F-For protection", I stuttered, "in case we run into a ghost". She looked at me as though I had lost my marbles and replied, "That's about as useful as a screen door on a submarine!". She grabbed the stick, threw it over the fence, and continued on. Although I was madder than a wet hen, I just thought "what's done is done" and caught up with her. Once we had reached the door, Chelsea pushed it open. We peered in and stepped through the front door slower than a pregnant nun going to confession. Only moments after we entered, a woman two days older than dirt came out of the other room. She was more confused than a woodpecker in a concrete forest. I was about to apologise for our trespassing when Chelsea, who mistook the old woman as a ghost, yelled, "AAHHH!! THE WICKED WITCH OF THE WEST!! SHE'S BACK!!!" and scurried out the door, with her tail between her legs, faster than a speeding bullet. The woman was at a loss for words, she didn't know what to think. Chelsea just left me there to face this confused old woman. I couldn't think of anything else to say so I just muttered "syphilis" and walked away.
10:55 a.m.
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There is nowhere you can run. Nowhere you can hide. With just one controlled blink, my eyes can freeze you in a second. I possess a pair of super-natural eyes with the ability to stop any moving object in its tracks. If a bank robbery were to occur, I could freeze them in place, take their guns, call the cops, and unfreeze them with just a blink of an eye. They won't know what hit 'em; one moment they're armed and dangerous the next they're cuffed and baffled (and maybe with a goofy mustache drawn on them too). My eyes are the ultimate defense against crime- but it doesn't end there. Imagine the consequences of miscalculations on a building under construction. Suddenly, a large beam falls from high up, gaining speed as it accelerates towards an innocent worker. Merely seconds before the beam takes her life, it pauses and is suspended in midair. The terrified worker is stunned, but nonetheless relieved at how lucky she is to have survived. The power my eyes withhold could prevent bees from stinging, cars from crashing, fires from expanding and bombs from exploding. No one shall ever underestimate the omnipotence that lies behind these hazel eyes.
