A Halloween Story
2003-10-31 @ 3:31 p.m.
Tacky, oversized, overdone ornaments are being put on sale at your local Wal-Mart, and not to be outdone, K-Mart puts out the most frightening Ho-ho-ho-ing Santa you've ever laid eyes on -complete with beer belly and posable limbs.
Malls and random stores stock their shelves with miscellaneous knick-knacks drenched in sayings of "Merry Christmas", "Happy Kwanzaa", and "Happy Hanukah", you know, to be politically correct, and the whole world as we know it has been raped of its color and been dyed, by default, in a monotony of green and red.
Ah, the spirit of "The Holidays" is in the air, complete with itchy, wool sweaters and foot-long candy canes -this can only mean one thing; Halloween is upon us.
Yes, Halloween, you know, what that Grim Reaper mask next to the mountain of Christmas lights was for.
This is a night in celebration of infantile debauchery; when houses get TPed and teeth are prone to rotting. A night when small children disguised as monsters, witches, and the most popular Pokemon of the moment intimidate adults into giving them candy by threatening them with tricks if these savage beasts don't get their treats.
A knock-knock-knock at the door and it's your worst nightmare; a mob of angry five year-olds crowding around your only exit, each dressed in an expensive-looking sack of yellow spandex and foam -PIKACHU!
You come to the realization that if you deny them candy they will surely kill you. Thinking fast, another sudden pang of realization hits you -they're going to kill you no matter what. If you give them candy, they won't like it, and if they do like it, they'll complain that you haven't given them enough. There's no possible way for you to win.
"Trick or treat", they threaten, in a horrible, piercing screech, and you reply, with a wry smile, "Happy Halloween, kids," you get by, dry-tongued, "sorry, but I haven't any candy for you tonight."
As the words left your lips, another pang of realization hit you, right between the eyes, making them twitch with nervousness -if they kill you no one will know who did it. All of them dressed in their hellish uniforms of conformity, there is, really, no difference between the lot of them. You, my friend, are fucking screwed.
Their eyes, registering what you had just said, locked onto you, brimming with malicious intent. You could only imagine what was going on in their miniscule minds as their grubby, sticky, little fingers reached out toward you. You screamed.
In their eyes you saw the means for Pure Evil, and you knew what their pudgy, little lips were forming were the words that would bring upon your untimely doom. "We're going to kill you," you could almost hear them saying, their voices playing themselves in the breeze.
Finally, coming to, you slammed the door shut in fear of your personal safety, and just as the door closed into its frame, you heard the sudden BAM!BANG!POW! of a swarm of Pikachus jumping into attack.
If you hadn't closed the door in time, they would have been on you...
You could hear them shriek their banshee-cries through the shut door, each voice joining into a unison that sent chills and shivers coursing through your body. Panic; they're going to get in.
Running, stumbling, scouring the house in search of another means for escape, you find none. You could hear their nails digging at the hard wood of the door. NO! They're going to get in!
Running to your room, you jump onto the warm softness of the bed, as if its comfort would bring upon the end of the horrid reality you were currently living out.
Your head found its pillow beneath the covers, and from there it did not wander.
The room was dark, but you didn't want to fumble around in this state in search of a light switch.
Their screams and scratches could still be heard, and while in this madness, half-listening to their chaos, you fell asleep.
Sleeping peacefully, deeply, dreamily -you did not wake in all the night.
Morning's light then seeped into the room through open curtains, and you awoke.
Almost forgetting what had happened, you jumped out of bed and onto your feet, and to your surprise, and shock, AND appall, there was something beneath your covers.
Poised, you reached over and took a deep breath; you're determined to find out just what is lying under there. "One," you count, "...two, three!" and ripped the covers off the bed!
There, staring back at you, was the single-most horrible sight you've ever laid eyes upon; the ugly, yellow, bodiless, spandex and foam head of a PIKACHU!
Everything suddenly came back, each moment as vivid as the next. You were livid as this reel of memory played out for you.
Once again, you stared down at the Pikachu-head and grimaced. Somewhere, in your mind, you heard a parent scolding a young child, "WHY YOU LITTLE -THAT COST ME 89.95!!!"
Oh! The horror!
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A little something I wrote for my english class. Enjoy.
Listening to: "Special Needs" by Placebo
everything © Claudia (2003-2008)