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It was Halloween, my favorite holiday! The night air carried a chill from the ocean to the East. This year I had dressed up as a writing zombie, which was way cooler in person than it being said or written. The wind was clod that night, blowing hard, cutting through my costume like a knife. I sat out in the yard, which was decorated to look like an abandoned bookstore.

 

I handed out candy to the kids and scared the teenagers- though; I had to explain to one group of teens what the big, brown screen less laptop was called.

 

A TYPEWRITER.

 

Kids these days, I swear. Around 9 was when the kids, the true trick-or-treaters stopped coming. Bedtime. I don’t much cater to the teenagers who do not give ten shits about Halloween. I am a horror nerd and everyday is Halloween, but October 31st is the recognized day. Show some damned respect! Asking for candy while in gym clothes.

 

That’s not a costume. At least put on some zombie make-up. But I had figured, first five Halloween movies before trick-or-treaters arrived and at 9, watch the last five with an encore of Trick r Treat! And that’s what I did, took my costume off, changed into my PJs, slipped into my slippers and popped in Halloween 6.

 

I made sure to turn off the front lights as a sign to say no more candy. The movie had been on for six minutes when the doorbell rang. My first thought was not candy tweaking kids high on sugar, but my neighbor. She was an old, frail lady, maybe a trick or treater scared her, and she just needed to be around someone.

 

I looked at the DVD and said sorry to Halloween 6 if I had to turn it off. Yes, I talk to my horror movies. My door doesn’t have a peephole but we have a small side window that doesn’t give you much of a view inside the house, but gives a little peek to the outside. No one was there. I probably took too long to answer the door and the kid had probably run off. No big.

 

I turned back around when it rang again and I realized had fallen victim to Ding Dong Ditch. I figured I’d ignore the little fucks and just enjoy my movie. Which I did. At the 28-minute mark (I know this because I paused the movie) I heard something like rocks being thrown at the window. Those little fucks were messing with me.

 

I’m a twenty four year old woman, and I shouldn’t have stooped to their level, but I like to say I have a second personality named Horror. She is mean and scary. I went into my room and put on my straight jacket; I’m not adding to the mental illness stigma, I have mental issues myself and I bought the damned thing, alright?

 

All while I was putting my crazy face on, the doorbell offered a weird soundtrack. Weird in the sense I’m not one to get dressed with chimes going off at frantic intervals. The doorbell was still ringing by the time I was dressed and ready to scare the kids. I opened the door and screamed a crazed scream.

 

No one was there. A few trick or treaters stopped and looked at me, but resumed their trick or treating once they realized I wasn’t an animatronic designed to scare people but a crazy lady screaming at people in asylum fashion. I stepped back into my house and wondered how when I opened the door on a doorbell ring, there were no kids or even a sign there had been a kid.

 

I shrugged and decided to go back to my Halloween marathon. I stepped off of the foyer and heard the doorbell again. Once. I spun around and stormed to the door and ripped the door open. I was going to give them a piece of my mind! There was no kid. No sign of a kid. But there was a box. The box was for the straightjacket lady.

 

That’s obviously me. I opened and my eyes went wide. Inside the box was the head of my neighbor’s cat. But I didn’t scream, it was gruesome but I know how great Halloween props are today. I examined the head, and it was not fake, it was not a rubber head with fun fur stuck to it. It was real. It was a real feline decapitation.

 

I screamed and threw the box and slammed my door shut. I ran back to my room and got dressed in my pajamas once more in case I had to call people over to take care of these brats. Then I heard the sounds of something being thrown at the living room window. I crept out of my room and into the living room where I saw a young boy in a rubber mask.

 

He didn’t see me and I ran outside and grabbed his shoulder. He started to scream a high pitch shriek and I ripped his mask off. The mask ripped his face off, of maybe he was faceless before he put the mask on! He looked at me and said: “They’re inside.” I spun around and saw a child dressed as a ghost run into my house.

 

I didn’t go back inside, I ran to my neighbor’s house. I called the cops and they searched the house. No kids. No damage. No fingerprints. Even with the cops go ahead to go back into my own home, I spent the night with my neighbor. I went home in the morning, in the daylight and the cops were right. No damage. No kids.

 

That was two years ago. I still hear those kids running about my house, laughing. I still find dead animals on the welcome mat. I still open to the doorbell and no one is there… 

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