The sky is clear and it’s still a bit chilly. I begin to walk to Wal-Mart as safely as I can. I walk past two street lights, and by a church. I am almost to Wal-Mart when my eyes spot the same old shop. I shake my head to get my mind off of it. Then I see a flash of green light in the old shop. I feel very curious to see what’s in that shop. I knock on the front door. No one answers. I knock again and still, no one answers. I give up and walk away. The door slowly opens as it makes a creaky noise. I feel very surprised. I think that the shop wants me to go in there. I have a feeling that it wants me or something. I don’t know, but it feels like it is calling me. I take a step, then another, and another. I am in the old shop. I close the front door.
“Hello!” I shout to see if anyone is in the shop, but no one answers.
There is nothing but dust and white sheets covering the props in the shop.
“I don’t mean to intrude, but I was on my way to the store to get stuff for my birthday party, and I saw a flash of green light. I thought it might have been a fire or something,” I say.
I grab one of the sheets and remove it to see what is under it. It is a statue of a Dragon. I remove another sheet and it reveals a large ring with a blue pearl and a shell. I remove all of the sheets off of the antiques. There are so many small statues of Gargoyles, Merpeople, and many other mythical creatures.
“Why do I keep on seeing mythical creatures in this shop? What is this? A Fantasy Con shop?” I ask.
I walk to the front door and grab the handle. The door is locked. Someone that lives here does not want me to leave. I feel like screaming for help, but I can’t do it, because I feel too terrified to scream. Besides, the person that lives in this old shop might hear me scream. All the lights in the shop turn on. There is someone in this place. I grab my cell phone to dial 911, but my cell phone turns off, because of the low battery.
“I forgot to charge it,” I whisper.
I see the man that lives in this place. He is a skinny old man.
Maybe somewhere in his seventies or eighties. His short hair is grey, he has a yellow vest over his white button-up shirt, and he has grey pants. He is writing on a piece of paper. I walk towards him very slowly. My heart is pounding fast.
“Sir, my Dad would love to pay you but this has n-never happened to m- me,” I stutter.
The old man looks up at me. His eyes squint a bit.
“Why are you fuzzy?” asks the old man.
“What?” I ask.
“Oh! Sorry, my glasses. Where are they?” the old man looks around his desk.
He finds his round glasses in a drawer. He grabs them and puts them on.
“Ah, here they are, and there you are. How did you get in here?” asks the old man.
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“I saw your shop with a flash of green light. I thought it was a fire or something,” I answer.
“Oh, that was only one of my light bulbs exploding,” says the old man.
“But it was a green flash of light. Not white,” I say.
“Trust me, boy, it was one of my light bulbs,” says the old man.
I decide to forget about the flash of light.
“Anyway, I can’t get out,” I say to the old man.
“Why?” the old man asks me while writing on a piece of paper.
“Because the door is locked! Geez! Are you deaf?” I burst.
“No, my hearing is just fine boy, but I lost the keys,” says the old man.
He puts his pen on the desk and clears his throat.
“Let me look for them,” says the old man.
He looks at his desk. “That’s strange I always keep my keys on my desk,” says the old man.
“Do you need any help?” I ask.
“No thanks,” says the old man as he waves his right hand at me.
I turn around and admire the old shop.
“So…what kind of shop is this anyway?” I ask.
“Oh, it’s just an old shop that has been in my family for many generations. As you can see there is dust and webs everywhere. These are the kind of antiques that no one is interested in anymore. But this old shop is my home as well. I dare not leave it. It seems that no one is interested in these mythical fantasy antiques anymore,” says the old man.
I look back at the desk.
“I am interested. I love fantasy things, movies, books, toys, and mythology. I love Dragons. They are my favorite mythical creature,” I say.
The old man looks back up at me from his desk.
“Well boy, I’ll see to it that you will get a discount for one of these antiques,” says the old man.
The old man scratches his head.
“What was I doing?” the old man asks.
“Looking for a key to the front door?” I ask.
The old man snaps his fingers. “Oh right,” says the old man.
Then I notice something shiny and green. It is something that is standing in the light of the window sill. It is a bottle. It is round and clear as glass. I walk towards the bottle and I pick it up. I stare at the bottle and think that it looks shiny and pretty. The bottle has a leather brown lid on top of it. It is round and shiny. I’m about to take the lid off when the old man notices me.
“Give me that!” shouts the man.
I feel a little shocked after the old man shouts at me. I walk to the desk and place the bottle on it. The old man grabs the bottle.
“This potion does not belong to you!” snaps the old man.
“Potion?” I ask.
“Yes potion,” the old man corrects me.
I slowly stretch out my right hand to grasp the potion.
“Can I at least see it?” I ask.
“You just did. No one is allowed to hold it, except for the person that is meant to have it,” the old man snaps.
“Who is meant to have it?” I ask him.
“Someone by the middle name of Mark,” says the old man.
I wonder if the old man knew my middle name was Mark. Of course, anyone could have Mark for a middle name. But it is my middle name. When he said the name Mark, it makes me feel like the shop wanted me to enter.
“Daniel Mark Tony?” I ask.
The man puts the potion down and stares at me. I try not to stare back at him, but I cannot help it.
“How do you know that name?” asks the old man.
“That’s my name,” I answer.
The old man gasps as if he feels like something wonderful has happened.
“Impossible.” the old man blinks. “How old are you?” he asks.
“I just turned sixteen today. It’s my B-day. Or, that’s what Megan told me, B-day.” I answer.
“Is it the 12th?” the old man asks me.
I feel even more surprised after he asks about my birthday.
“Yes,” I answer.
“The 12th of April?” asks the old man.
“Yes sir,” I answer.
The old man grabs the potion and puts it in my hand. I look at the potion.
“You can keep it,” says the old man with a smile.
“For how much?” I ask.
“It is not for sale. It is for free,” says the old man.
“What is your name?” I ask the old man.
“John, John Hollow,” the old man answers.
I walk towards the door and the wind blows it open. I walk out.
I turn my head back to the shop.
“Hey, that door was…” I turn back to see the old man.
The old man is gone. I shake my head and walk out the shop door.