‘Trick Or Treat’ by Charlotte L
It was that time again. The time that all children had been waiting for during the year, the time the dentists and most parents feared, the time when strange creatures lurked among the shadows, the time when anyone could be whatever they wanted, and the time when the truth was well and truly disguised.
The crisp autumn breeze blew the crimson-coloured leaves down the street and small birds nestled in the sky-scraping trees above. Pairs of women gossiping passes down the street once in a while, fresh coffee from the cafe in town in one hand and a puppy on a leash in the other. The golden sun chose when to shine, determined by the number of clouds that slowly drifted through the swiftly darkening sky.
The street where I lived on the western side of town was near enough desolate and particularly peaceful during the later months of the year. However, a loud and chaotic looking family usually drove past in a car pretty frequently and my neighbors left long ago, too frightened at the stillness and deafening silence of the sparsely populated street, despite the number of freshly decorated houses. Nothing even remotely dangerous ever happened here. Deciduous and luscious trees lined the pavement in symmetrical rows on each side of the street, a blanket of withering leaves on the floor every time the wind blew their thick oak branches. The ivory-coloured houses were as daunting as a blank sheet of paper, new and ready to be transformed with life. The people across the street from me had already started decorating their front lawn, I shouldn't have been surprised as Halloween was tomorrow, but I had higher priorities on my never- ending To-Do list. I unlocked the sliding doors to my cluttered garage and rummaged around until I uncovered my collection of decorations. Skeletons with broken limbs, furry and demented spiders, plastic pumpkins, dust covered witches, thick cotton cobwebs, scarlet- red blood covered mummies and ghosts made from old bed sheets, they were all discarded in a box after last year's Halloween celebrations. It was at that point a shiver swept through my wiry body, pricking up the tiny hairs on the back of my pale and bare neck. Something was not right; I could feel it. I now considered the idea that I should have worn a winter jumper, but I was not that cold. After all, it was only autumn and the frosty winter mornings driving to the work office were yet to come. I continued to rummage around through the various cardboard boxes filled with Halloween props, tiny ceramic ornaments and garden tools used many warm summers ago, making me remember all the memories and experiences I had.
Outside, young children played on their bicycles and jumped over skipping ropes, their squeals of delight as load as a cacophony of cars on a main road during rush hour. In the corner of my eye, I noticed a silhouette on the edge of the woods next to the house opposite from where I was standing by my filthy garage window. The rush of panic rose higher through me, I now definitely knew something was not right. My heart beat so aggressively I thought it would jump out of my chest and wriggle around on the cobbled stone floor. They wore entirely black, and their face was hidden by the hood of a cloak. The parents of the children enjoying themselves seemed to be unaware that an ominous figure was watching everyone intently. This mysterious person stared at me, their figure resembling that of a ravenous predator ready to pounce on its helpless prey. I blinked frantically, hoping it would all disappear, and when I cautiously opened my aching eyes once more to look again, the figure was gone. I wanted to act as if nothing had happened, this person, whoever they were, had not been watching me and it was all part of my constantly vivid imagination, so I tried my best to distract myself and forget. But of course, this was not true. My now shaking hands continued to rummage through the decorations, until I found something I didn't like the feel of. A note. My stomach dropped. Growing more and more fearful, I unfolded the creased cartilage paper and revealed the message inside. Right there, in bold, inky letters, it read:
You can't escape now.
Suddenly, this all became too much for me to bear. Who was coming for me/ What had I done? Why did I deserve this intimidation? The thought clicked in my brain like a new lightbulb being switched on for the first time. The message was from the unfathomable, sibylline and strange person who was watching me. The pale green veins bulged on the surface of my hands and my limbs felt incapable of moving. I had no idea what would happen next. Was I safe? Who was really watching me from the shadows?
After the shock I felt in the garage, I made the conscious decision to finish decorating my front lawn the next day and instead return back inside. That night, it rained torrentially, the heavy raindrops landing on my cracked window and sliding down in rows. I stared up at my cieling, refusing tolet my exhaused body shut down for the day and rest unti I awoke the next morning. All of a sudden, the street where I had lived for a century did not feel so safe anymore. As my eyes naturally closed and my breaths began to sound heavier and more laboured, thoughts of unknown creatures lirking in the silent and unruly woods circled round my brain and caused me a great deal of discomfort.
As the glowing sun rose in the morning sky, I woke with a jolt and forgot the concerning events of the day before. Radiant beams of light shone down onto the world below, providing hope for all people and showing the start of a new day. The same afternoon, I prepared the treats for the trick or treaters and admired my work which I had finished after I work up in order to distract myself. Blocking all outside life from my home was an unsettling, substantial and long - haired tarantula, its eight legs twisting around the sides of the building and keeping evrything in its strong clutches. It covered the entirety of the left side of the house, demonstrating its dominance and power among the spooky decorations.Floating ghosts hung in the trees and my delicately carved, plump pumpkins were placed outide the front door, their tawny colour acting as a bright light among the fear and darkness the night brought. At the local supermarket, I brought every treat a child could desire. Liquorice, thichly caramel - coated apples, chewy toffees, pumpkin shaped marshmallows, chocolate brownies, mummy - shaped cookies, decadent vanilla cupcakes and multi - coloured gummy worms. I was proud of my array of treats and decided that if the food I had chosed would give a dentist a heart attack then I had done a good job. After what felt like a lifetime of waiting, I heard giggles floating up the driveway and finally a knock at the door. As I gradually opened my front door, the words : 'Trick or treat ! ' were screamed by multiple small children, their faces only a small representation of their pure joy and excitement. Vampires and mummies and witches and ghosts and cats and superheroes and monsters all stood before me, their costumes so clearly showing their personalities and interests. By the time all the parents had said thank you, half the children had finished their treat and were begging for more! Many groups arrrived to the doorstep at different times and I only had one or two minutes to sit down before each repetition of the scenario, it got to the point where the three words were engraved into my long term memory and brain permanantly. Just as I thought the evening was going successfully, everything went black and the TV show I had been watching stopped. I soon realised - a power cut. By pure instinct, I looked out of my navy blue curtains to see the neighbours houses and understand the current situation more clearly. To my surprise, I only found everyone acting perfectly normally and all the other houses in the street with their lights on and music drifting from their front doors. This had never happened before, and the fuse box had only been checked a few months before due to the annual check ups. Luckily I had my ancient torch to hand and was able to navigate my way through my gloomy hallway to the front door. I wanted to wait at least half an hour before calling the electrician, so I waited. And waited. And waited some more. But nothing happened. No more trick or treaters knocked on my door with their tiny hands, calling their chants and chatting amongst themselves. I decided to call it a night and head upstairs but when i reached the staircase, the doorbell rang. I dis not move. My arms and legs decided to rebel against the rst of my body and did not work like normal so I was left standing there for a few moments whilst I turned around. In this specific moment, I just assumed the trick or treaters had rung the bell instead of sing the brass knocker, so I slouched against the staircase and approached the door. My icy fingers clasped the doorknob
and I twisted my wrist in a smooth motion, lifting my head and preparing a grin in order to alarm the excitable children. My door creaked and my head bowed, my eyes focused on the floor and the highly used Halloween doormat.
'Trick or -'
I looked up. Right there, before me, was the person from the woods the day before. My worst nightmare. Time stopped for an eternity. I could not believe it. Was this a hallucination? All black clothes and a towering body, looming over me and creating a sense of pure fear and restlessness. My brain did not have time to react so I let out my loudest scream. As loud as I was capable, the sound ricocheted off the walls and echoed painfully loudly in my ears. This time, the person wore a discomforting mask which covered their face and my jaw dropped low enough to touch the floor. Fingers clasped in leather black gloves clasped around a sharp blade, the sharp point at the end suggesting what might happen next. My heart beat so fast I did not know how I hadn't yet fled in terror, and with all my strength and might I tried to slam the door. All my efforts. Completely wasted. This terrifying person used their weapon to stop the door closing and created a dent in the doorframe. My heart told me to run but my legs told me to stay.
It all happened so fast.
The blade rose up, building suspense like the moments of silence before the audience understood a comedians joke.
This was no joke.
I screamed again.
This time, the pain burned my lungs and caused me to cry out. The person stood before me reached out and successfully silenced my screams.
Silence.
Only three words could be heard.
'Trick or treat.' ....