THIS HALLOWEEN

Submitted into Contest #65 in response to: Write about someone’s first Halloween as a ghost.... view prompt

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Holiday Horror

I have always loved Halloween but it's going to be different this year. It's going to be really different this year.

From a very early age it was my favourite time of the year, Christmas was great , with all the presents and treats , but it was Halloween that I looked forward to most of all. When I was small I think my parents simply draped a white sheet over me and cut holes for eyes and I was happy telling everyone that I was a ghost;

then as I got bigger the costumes became more elaborate but always I wanted to be a ghost. My elder sister dressed as a princess, a witch and a whole slew of characters from fairy stories or cartoons, but for me it had to be a ghostly costume.

Mom used to start sewing about the beginning of September and my sister would be giving instructions as to how many sequins she wanted on the bodice or what colour tulle she wanted for the skirt, and it was quite beyond her comprehension that I, her younger sister had no interest in all this finery, and just wanted yet another variation on a ghost. Not a zombie, not a ghoul, not a vampire, a ghost pure and simple.

When I grew up and had kids of my own, I dressed them in all the varieties of costume one could think of, but I always accompanied them dressed as a ghost. It was the family joke and as they grew older they used to say that they were taking Mom out trick or treating.

These past few years I have got together with some like minded enthusiasts and we have organized a haunted trail, which has become a welcome feature in the neighbourhood . Of course, I am always a ghost and I have had such fun scaring all my friends , who squeal, leap back two paces and then laughingly ask if it is me behind the make up. Everyone knows that I will not be found disguised as a werewolf or a character from one of the latest horror movies. No,long ago someone told me that Halloween was the day of the dead , and to me that meant ghosts, not some demonic doll or whatever. Others could dress up as they wished and it was fun scaring or pretend scaring, everyone who came along our trail, but for me it remained the day of the dead , and I was sticking to my roll as a ghost.

Last year my arthritis did not allow me to dash around the woods and suddenly appear from behind a tree, as in years gone by, so they made a pretend grave and a very substantial head stone on which I perched , looking as though I had just popped up for a look around. At least that was what my friends on the organizing committee said. I was just happy to be able to take part and enjoy the fun as always.

This year I was not part of the planning, not making costumes , not inventing new scary scenarios, not shopping for the odds and ends which were made use of to decorate thew ever-growing trail. I did no painting, nor transforming of household items into ghoulish relics by heat;moulding plastic and adding colour and lights. I had no hassle trying to find room in the attic for all the finished items and work in progress. No, I don't remember such a calm, hassle free time , I don't remember such a quiet peaceful time. I don't remember.........

It was Halloween again and I felt that old excitement. To be out and about and feel that special vibe ! There was never anything else like it. The trail ! I must go to the trail and see how everything has turned out this year. Did they get that new skeleton ? Oh, and would they have that terrific vampire grave they were working on , with that automatic raising base which Mike said he could make out oi an old adjustable bed mechanism ? Mike wanted to be the vampire and had the evening dress as well as the teeth and everything. Oh. I hope it worked !

I arrived at the trail and I could hear the preparations in full swing. Shouts and orders, requests and exclamations . It was all so familiar and nostalgic. I recognized many of the voices but some of the teenagers who were helping were a bit difficult for me to place ; their voices sounded too similar to me. I thought I would wait for a few minutes and enjoy walking the finished trail as I had so seldom had the time or the opportunity to do so, being positioned somewhere and not wishing to clash with whatever else was going on. I could slowly walk the trail this year before the public was allowed in.

I set off in happy anticipation and after about twenty feet I saw an old friend putting on her witch's hat and settling down beside her cauldron. She saw me, drew in her breath , then turned and ran. I was puzzled but continued on to where a ghoulish figure was seated on a bench. I had no idea who it was until the ghoul stood up and said my name in a sort of breathless query. " Is that you? If this is someone's idea of a joke. It is in pretty poor taste." Fred said. "Oh, you can see it too Fred. I thought I was imagining things." Emma, the witch said in a sort of relieved voice.

I tried to reassure them and tell them that it was me, only me, and I wondered if my outfit was a bit too convincing this year. They did not seem to hear me . Fred put an arm around Emma's shoulder and they both backed down the path away from me.

I felt distressed. I hurried forward, but as I approached the retreating figures of Fred and Emma, there was an ear piercing shriek from Betty, and they all staggered further down the dark path to where an illuminated Mike was slowing rising in his automatically controlled coffin. Mike glanced my way and did not wait for the board to rise further, but scrambled over the side of the coffin and with an expletive, joined the others in a retreat down the ill-lit path.

I felt devastated . These were my old friends . Some I had known for a lifetime. The full import of their reaction was dawning on me. I was not dressed in a scary outfit. I did not need to be. I had only to be me. I no longer needed a ghost costume for I was now a ghost ! This Halloween was truly the day of the dead,

ENDS,

October 29, 2020 23:48

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1 comment

Chris Tyroak
21:10 Nov 04, 2020

Nicely delivered piece of poignant prose.

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