One Scary Halloween

I just love the autumn season. I love the pumpkin lattes (always!), the trees turning their colors, and how the temperature stays JUST between freezing your socks off, or sweating your boobs off. 
I also love Halloween. All the spooky stuff, costumes, and candy made it why Halloween was my favorite holiday. 
Hence, why I'm making extra sure to make this Halloween extra memorable. I have my (fantastic) costume, hand-made, just for this special occasion for the trick or treaters. It's a crow costume. 
I look at my Halloween decorations, making sure all the cobwebs are on, Jack-O-Lanterns are lit, skeletons out, and of course, the candy. I made extra sure to buy a lot of the king sized Hershey bars. Courtesy for the kids of course (and maybe for myself for midnight munching). 
I smile, seeing everything at its rightful place. It's now time for my wonderful costume. I look at the time. It's 6:00. The trick or treaters should be coming any moment now! I quickly run to my room, grab my costume and hurriedly put it on. I look in the mirror, give a satisfied smile, and walk to the living room, waiting for the neighborhood kiddos to congregate on my front porch. I grab some treats for myself (I can’t go without food, giving all that candy away makes me hungry), some Halloween movies, and sit down. I grabbed the movies Halloween, Friday the 13th, and Ghostbusters (the first and second, just in case), then settled down for my movie night.
I hear the familiar sound of children giggling, a knock at the door, and I get up to provide my first trick or treaters their candy. This continues for (and I counted) 53 times. Yes. 53. The kids know I’m the “good house with candy”, so I get the most trick or treaters. And I just love seeing all the children’s little smiling faces (or hearing their laughs if they have a mask on). 
I look at the clock. 12:00. I smile. It’s time to indulge in my personal celebration of Halloween. I put away my candy, and get out of my costume. Now, it’s time for “Friday the 13th” time! I turn off the lights (to maximize the spooky effect) and grab a blanket, and of course the snacks. This is like the one time I actually have a good excuse why I gained 10 pounds (besides Thanksgiving, and Christmas. But that’s it, I swear! *sweats*). 
I get comfortable, and at long last, turn on my movie. I nibble on my snacks, and enjoy myself. 
15 minutes later, I hear a knock on the door. At first, I didn’t hear it. Not until the second time was when I heard the knock, now a little louder than before. I freeze, and (sadly) pause my movie. It was way too late for it to be trick or treaters still prowling about. So I get up and slowly open my closed curtains just enough to let me see who it is. 
It's a man. He wears a ripped coat, gloves, ripped jeans, and he wears a medical mask. He looks so… ragged-like. His skin is pale, and his eyes are sunken. But what frightens me is the crowbar in his hand, and that his face has what looks like BLOOD splatters all over it. And I’m pretty positive that that isn’t makeup. 
I quickly realize that this dude is out for blood. MY blood to be exact. I also quickly realize, I did not lock the door. I know my measly rusted lock (I have a rented house) can be easily forced open, so locking it now is no use. I run like the wind, grab a knife (for self defense of course), my phone, and go to find a hiding spot. I know I have to find a hiding place fast. 
I hear the door knob rattle, and I nearly pee myself. 
I look at my kitchen table. There are two seats, and a wooden bench that's connected to the wall. I notice that my bench at my kitchen table can open. There's a blanket over it (it was pretty hard so I put a thick blanket over it. Yes, a blanket. I can’t afford anything else) so I quickly get in there, move the blanket back in place, and get very still. Just in time for my door to swing open. I hear the guy walk his first steps on my poor, old, creaky floor, which then groans in the process. 
“I know you are here.” 
My breath hitches as I hear his footsteps do hard, slow strides toward the kitchen. 
“I saw you peek through your window.” 
I hear crashes as he breaks my stuff, in a mad rage. Tears trickle down my face as I muffle my sobs. I can feel my heart pounding. The murderer probably can hear it to be honest. Hopefully not. Well… probably not considering he is completely destroying my apartment, and thus making plenty of noise. I decide to videotape all this. Every single crash, cuss, and cry, is recorded. 
The guy is starting to get mad. And it's very obvious. 
“WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?!” 
A loud crash. That sounds like my TV. That TV was expensive, how rude! 
“IT SHOULDN'T BE SO HARD TO FIND YOUR PATHETIC LITTLE LIFE IN THIS PATHETIC THING YOU CALL A HOUSE.” 
A loud thud. That sounds like a couch. Dang, that dude is strong. 
“FUCKING PARASITES LIKE YOU SHOULD DIE.” 
Then… silence. A loud “ding!” sound. That must’ve been his crowbar. A few more crashes, slams, and cracks, then loud abrupt stomping footsteps. A slam, then silence. He was done. He walked out. 
I breathe a sigh of relief. I check my security cameras on my phone and absolutely nothing. I'm safe at last. 
I have never spoken of that terrible incident since.
Category: HWC23
Category: Halloween
Category:Crime
Category:Mental Illness