The Haunted House: A Halloween Story
Everyone knew that the house at the end of the dead end road was haunted. It wasn’t just the gray peeling flakes of paint off the sides of the house covered in layered webs of spider art displaying dead flies that gave it away. It was the muted screams of shrill voices that shattered the broken shards of glass in the darkened interior that kept the neighborhood kids walking on the other side of the block on most days.
But on the day before Halloween, an orange pumpkin suddenly appeared on the broken wooden steps leading up to door latched only by a single hook and latch. The pumpkin seemed lost as if it had been placed on the steps by mistake and wanted to move houses. In the dusk of the evening, the pumpkin appeared to cry real tears which made the sounds from the house shrill past the full moon and the night racing into Halloween day.
On Halloween day, the pumpkin was gone. The haunted house was quiet for the first time in years. The house had been painted a sunflower yellow and the broken windows had been fixed along with the wooden steps and the porch rails. The smell of baking pie permeated through the neighborhood. As the first kid walked up to the door and said “Trick or Treat," the freshly painted black door opened slowly.
The pumpkin from the porch held out a brown paper bag with candy corns and said to the little girl, “Would you like some candy and a piece of pumpkin pie?" As the girl went into the house, she noticed a large square table with at least ten slices of pumpkin pie laid out on white paper plates. Taking a slice, she quickly ate it and within seconds, she disappeared. The pumpkin rolled her onto the broken wooden steps. As the afternoon turned into the darkest of Halloween nights, the house turned back into its brokenness and shrill screams with the biggest scream coming from the pumpkin sitting innocently on the edge of a broken wooden step waiting for the next trick or treater.
Original story by the author of this article - Copyrighted 2009