It's Halloween. - SCP Foundation

It's Halloween, and here I am, lying costume-less on my bed.

I have a costume, of course; many, in fact. They're all just still in the boxes, because I couldn't find the time or energy to pick one.

Outside, I'm sure the neighbors & their kids are enjoying a night of parties & scares, marveling at the sights & sounds & tastes everyone has on offer.

I'm sure none have given my undecorated apartment door much more than a passing glance.

I didn't even bother to put a candy bowl outside.

As I silently listen to the bustle & chatter, I feel the emptiness within me grow once more, eating away at my soul - or what's left of it, at least.

I think back to my childhood days; all the hours I've spent languishing like this, forced to eavesdrop on parental arguments, stewing in the atmosphere that permeated the house like a thick fog.

The feeling starts to burn, and tears start to well around my clenched eyelids as the memories reach a fever pitch.

…

And then, I sense a figure in the room with me.

I open my eyes.

It's standing in the corner, its head almost reaching the ceiling. The black cloth it wears billows gently in the current of the overhead fan.

Most noticeable of all, though, is the large, circular mirror it has instead of a face, through which I have a wide-angle view of my sprawled, pathetic form.

We stare at each other, for a minute or so. You'd think I would've clambered out of bed or shouted in shock, but something about this entity's aura tells me it means no harm.

Eventually, it starts moving, slowly and soundlessly gliding across the carpeted floor of my bedroom until it reaches the foot of my bed.

It reaches out with a black-gloved hand, and rests it on my shoulder.

It stays motionless for a couple of seconds, and in the awkward stillness, I say the first thing that comes to mind:

"Spooky."

A squeeze, light and reassuring, and a slight movement of its head in a fashion I recognize from when people smile at my jokes.

And then, as quickly as it appears, the figure is gone.

…

I lay there for a while, processing what I had witnessed.

Eventually, I decide I need to wash my face. I lift myself off the bed, and head to the bathroom.

I open the door, flick on the lights..

..and notice a message on the mirror, written in the steam of a fresh bath that I wasn't planning on taking until tomorrow.

I still think about you. About all that time we spent together, on the playground. Although we don't keep in touch anymore, I still know that you care. I hope you know it's the same for me.

Happy Halloween.

Immediately, the burning starts to slightly fade, ebbing & waning as a new emotion takes its place.

The tears flow once more, but for once in my life, they aren't of malaise.

I look down, and see a small red chocolate bar next to my toothbrush cup.

Tony's.

My favorite.

I break off a piece, wash my face, and walk over to the costume boxes.

I find a skeleton morphsuit, and decide to pair it with a tattered hoodie, some sweatpants, and a pair of sunglasses.

A small orange bucket swings in my hand as I make my way to the front.

There was a ghost decal inside one of the miscellaneous boxes; I hang it up on the door. Some plastic pumpkins beside the frame, as well.

Stepping back, I admire my handiwork. It's not much, but it's charming, at least.

"…"

I sigh, smile softly, and walk out into the night.

"..Happy Halloween, man."