One dull, rainy morning, I woke up completely empty inside. Not the dramatic, depressed kind of empty, I was legitimately hungry. As my stomach screamed at me with passionate grumbles, I urgently ran to the kitchen as if my life depended on it. In the fridge, I did not find anything worth eating. From vegetables to brown rice, each item was a product of my family’s new health kick. I quickly ran out the door and into my car, all while my stomach was harassing me with more and more earthquake rumbles.

Finally entering a store full of zombie-like denizens going through their usual shopping routines, my eyes met a candy display. This was not just another cardboard sign with a name and a price; It was colorful, bright, and altogether beautiful! Among all other candy displays, this one stood out like a flamingo in a flock of pigeons. Its smell was the chocolate waterfall from Willy Wonka’s factory. Just strolling past the display was entering a splash zone for my nose.

Once captivated by its smell, I just had to turn my head and explore the wonderland. With a better glimpse, it was obvious that I found the gold at the end of the rainbow. The metallic packaging of each piece of chocolate was a noon, summer sun reflecting off a mirror. The rigid edges were perfect origami… pieces of art. The only thing I could think when I saw this was, “Where have you been all my life?” This may sound dramatic, but it is far from a lie. It was love at first sight.

Grabbing one bag after another, I ran to the cashier with my arms full of this newly found treasure. Looking back, I must have looked like the crazy person from which parents teach their children to stay away. I paid the nice lady and ran out the store at lightning speed. Dodging random cars in the parking lot, I barely made it to my car in one piece! “Oh the things I do when I am hungry,” I thought.
After purchasing my happiness and finally making it home, the first thing I wanted to do was eat it, obviously. Well, this candy was a drug, addictive after one, tiny bite. When the chocolate was broken with my clenched jaw, a surprise was uncovered. It was filled with a fluffy pillow of flavor. Smooth like wet sand and chewy like a dog treat, the filling was surprisingly perfect. It was almost indescribable. Each bite was a vacation for my mouth. Lacking any trace of willpower, I could not stop eating the chocolate. Each candy gave me a feeling of satisfaction for the moment, yet I always found myself reaching for more. Bite after bite, I could feel my body slowly becoming a bean bag.
Once I finished eating an entire bag of candy, I felt as sick as an out of shape marathon runner. Unable to get up, I just laid on the cold, hard floor until I fell into a deep slumber. All of the sudden, I was flying around Grand Central Station with my best friend from preschool, Tiffany. The atmosphere was thick with rushing business people on a mission. We were both stuffing churros down our throats and gulping gallons of ice cold water. Unfortunately, the police came and kicked us out due to “inappropriate flying behavior.” Apparently, having fun is not allowed at train stations. Disappointed , we went home and decided to eat chocolate… It was genuinely the weirdest thing that has ever happened to me.
The next thing I remember was waking up in a mountain of candy wrappers. Luckily feeling a little bit better than I did before my nap, I stood up and decided to walk off my chocolate coma. Pacing back and forth like a nervous presenter, I was on a mission to make myself feel human again. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted another bag of the candy. It was a telephone, calling me in and tempting me with its constant ringing. Of course, I had to just eat one more piece… Well, that single bite tasted twenty billion times better than I expected. The slow melting of the chocolate on my tongue was an ice cube on the beach. The smooth, rich chocolate flavor continued to work its magic and tempted me to take more. For the first time, I learned from my mistakes and decided to resist the urge. Refusing to eat the other loads of bags I recently purchased, I brought them to school to share with my friends. My friends were ecstatic and loved the candy, and I learned to never eat Three Musketeers again.