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Can you believe that Halloween is only two days away? Tonight, I am carving a pumpkin. Tomorrow, I will be creepy-ing up my house with skeletons and spider webs. Eeeeekkk! LOVE IT!

So the inspiration for the day is trick. That dreaded part of the well-known phrase, trick-or-treat, the part of the saying you hope the person who answers the door doesn’t choose. What if they do…


The dark street stretches out before us. Groups of costumed kiddies dash across the road and wander along the sidewalks.

I squeeze my girlfriend’s hand, my patience stretching to the limits. “How much longer do we have to do this?”

“Stop, Kyle,” Nora says. “You promised your mom you’d take them.”

“I remember something that resembled more of a threat, take them or…” I pull the car keys from my pocket and jingle them, “no car.”

I shuffle up yet another leaf-littered sidewalk. Knots of irritation form in my belly.

“Trick-or-treat!” the kids sing in a chorus, holding bags out in front of them.

“Trick, you little urchins.” The old woman’s face wrinkles in terrible glee. “HA! Didn’t expect that did you?”

Candy filled pumpkins and pillowcases droop in disappointment. Anger flares in my chest at the sad faces of my little brother and his friends. I step forward, but Nora holds me back.

The woman cackles as her trembling hand waves the kids towards the road. “I am not here to hand out free candy to all you lazy children, sitting around all day playing video games. Spoiled brats.” She slammed the door.

Grumbling, the group turns and races off to the next house. Nora tugs on my hand, but my feet stay firmly planted on the ground. My heart pounds with fury.

I nod towards the kids. “Go on with them.”

“Kyle?” The syllable holds curiosity and a bit of worry.

My fingers curl into fists. “She said she wanted a trick.”

Nora moves in front of me, gazing into my eyes. Fear flickers across her face. “Kyle, please. Not again. The police said -”

I shove her away. “She said she wanted a trick.” Rage boils over from my mind, creeping over my heart and bubbling into my gut.

Nora hangs her head and hurries after the group of kids under our care. “You want a trick, you crazy, old bat. You think handing out a few chocolate bars is too much trouble?” I stomp up the walkway to the front door, my head spinning as darkness seeps into my thoughts.

I turn my head, searching for something, anything. I grab the wicker rocker and raise it above my head. My burning anger reflects in the front door’s oval window.

The chair crashes into the door, splintering into pieces. Yet the door remains unscathed. I growl in frustration. My hands clenching and unclenching. I curl my fingers around the small, round iron table. Its weight fuels my rage. Again and again, I smash it against the house. The windows ripple, but don’t crack. The porch railing bends, but doesn’t break.

The door opens with a creak. A low chuckle trickles out of the house, wrapping around my mind.

I rush towards the doorway, lifting the table above my head. The old woman stands in dim blue light. I swing the furniture, wanting to crush her skull, but it passes through her, leaving misty wisps curling in the air.

My breaths become ragged gasps. The white-haired apparition reforms, her eyes blazing red.

With a howl, she rushes towards me and the blackness engulfs me.

Her laughter rings in my mind. “Trick!”


That was a good trick. Mwahahahahahaha!