“My name is Gwyn not Gwyneth, and I’m a witch. Now before you start saying witches don’t exist let me ask you something. Have you ever seen a witch? And if you have how did you know? See that’s exactly my point. People think we witches run around wearing pointed hats, have moles on our noses, or flying brooms in our closets. Well that’s just ridiculous; except for the broom part, I do have one of those.”
“Like I said witches do exist, and I come from a whole family of witches. In fact in the witch world we’re practically royalty. Love potion, I’ve got you, need something to calm your nerves before that big test, here you go, want to learn how to fly? Well, I can try to teach you but it’s kind of a genetic thing.”
“So what’s my problem, you might ask. Well, as we all know our first middle school dance is coming up or rather our first dance ever. And it just so happens it’s on the same night as the Great Witch Convention which is at my house this year.”
“So there you have it folks, life as a witch isn’t all it’s hyped up to be.”
I heard clapping from across the room, “Great job, Gwyneth,” said my drama teacher, “that was your best performance yet, you’ve really loosened up since last year. Now why don’t you tell the class how you came up with such an amazing monologue?”
Mr. Wilkinson stood there waiting, I knew he wanted to hear some stellar story but I had none, none he would believe anyway. So I stood there, keeping my place in the middle of the stage; not moving a muscle waiting for the bell to ring.