A Trick or a Treat? (Halloween Short Story Part 1)

“I’ll pick you up at ten, sweetie,” my mother says before driving away with her silver-blue minivan.

It’s official. I, Ashley Lockeheart, am taking my first step to human society, even though I’m considered as one.

On the other hand, I feel like I don’t.

Tonight's the night I embark on a school dance. A Monster Mash dance, that is. And it so happened that this is the first time I’m going to a social gathering, thanks to my mother-- for doing this against my will. But if it’s to please my mother, then sure. Part of the reason why I’m ok to go because I don’t want to waste on the costume that I adore.

Taking a deep breath, I glance at the grand, pewter gray cobblestone building and enter. From the inside, Halloween decorations are all over the wall, consisting of fake spiders, witch hats, and jack-o-lanterns. And dangling from the ceiling are artificial spider webs and paper witches flying on broomsticks. Maybe the spider webs made the entrance way of the building appear intricate, but the rest are tacky.

A sigh escaped from my lips, as I venture out to the hallway, where more tacky decorations are in place. By the time I head into the cafeteria, everyone had gathered onto the dance floor, moving their hands and feet in an unorderly manner. Others are either standing around or sitting at a table talking to their peers. As for their costumes, the majority wear either pirate, princess, or witch costumes, whether they have vibrant colors or not.

I have to be honest, but it is filling me with dread with a hint of disgust. It’s not aboriginal to my taste, but the kids in my grade do look good. I, on the other hand, have appeared to be more goth, which I’m used to it. My costume consists of black, mini dress, a gold belt, white leggings, black leather punk boots, and a blackish-blue cape.

Pulling my hoodie over my head, I amble through tables that are teeming with chairs and people. Too many, I must add. Despite how medium-sized the room is, it’s not that spacious.

Making my way out of there, I go over to the buffet of sugary sweets like caramel apples, Snickers candy bar, candy corns, etc.

I know it’ll rot my teeth out overnight, I think playfully.

Next to the gummy worms is the fruit punch that is in a black cauldron. Quirking my eyebrow, I dip the silver gray ladle onto the cherry red liquid and pour into the clear, plastic cup. However, I ceased from what I am about to do when the concoction fills up my nose. It smells acidic yet… sweet.

“Alcohol,” I mutter under my breath before secretly dumping it into the cauldron.

“Having trouble much, Lockeheart?’ a voice creeps behind me, causing me to drop the plastic cup into the cauldron filled with red liquid. I turn around and behold; three girls appear in my eyes. The socially popular ones.

Charlotte Pinkett, wearing a Red Queen’s outfit, is smirking at me. “You do realize that you actually have to drink that stuff, don’t you?”

The two girls, standing side-by-side are her friends: Tory and Ronnie. All three girls are wearing similar mini dresses, stockings, and headbands but entirely different; Tory is wearing a witch costume, and Ronnie is dressed as a daredevil.

When I twist my face into a scowl, Ronnie jeers, “What’s the matter? Ever been to a costume party?”

“Don’t waste your breath,” I say.

“Sounds like it’s her first time,” Tory scoffs, before the rest of the girl group join in.

"I wish I have the power to banish you all in the underworld," I think, angrily. I cannot say it out loud since it will cause more laughter for the group. So smiling sweetly, I exclaim, “You come here for a chuckle, ladies?”

“I knew you’re too good for us,” Charlotte laughs and whips her short, curly blonde hair with the back of her hand. “But no, we are not.”

I arch my eyebrow, looking at them with a quizzical expression. “Then, why are you here?”

“The girls and I are inviting you for a spooky night,” she replies.

“Invite mwah?” There is a tinge of sarcasm in my tone since I’m not buying into their reason. Honestly, I’m more of a social outcast in this school, and Charlotte and the girls laugh at me for being the most creepy and weird person in the school. Creepy, yes. Weird-- must I define it? You can say that I don’t socialize with others because I’m not like the others. While all the other kids talk amongst themselves, I tend to my book. And while other girls paint their faces in bright multi colors, I paint mint with just black or midnight purple eye shadow. “I don’t mean to brag, but shouldn’t all three of you be dancing with boys and be crowned as whatever title you win at the dance?”

“Turns out the boys, here, are lame,” Tory adds in.

“And there is no crown.” Ronnie rolls her eyes over.

Charlotte notices that their explanation does not move me because of my neutral expression. So she stands close to me, closing the space between us as if the school doesn’t exist. “The point is that this year’s dance is a drag. Nothing is exciting.”

“There’s alcohol in the fruit punch if you guys want that,” I point out, still wearing that playful grin on my face.

“Not that kind of fun!” All three girls are coming close, their stares devilish and burning Charlotte’s voice becomes low but audible for her friends, including me, can hear. “We’re talking about a spooky kind of fun.”

“Come again?” I ask, a hint of dubiousness inside.

“We’re going somewhere spooky yet exciting, tonight.”

“We?” I start to chuckle at Charlotte’s statement, considering she and the others don’t like something creepy and gross. “Why we instead of you three?”

“Because you-- out of everyone in this school --is cool,” Ronnie explains.

I shake my head in disbelief, as my arms are folded across my chest. “I doubt that’s even true, not after what you guys did to me in the past.”

“It’s because we’re jealous, Ash,” Tory sighs in a playful matter. “But it looks like we were on the wrong foot.”

“So let bygones be bygones,” Charlotte chimes. “Let’s all have fun, just all four of us.”
When I don’t reply, she says, “What’s the matter? Afraid?”

I sense there is trouble-- trouble in the night and it’s these three girls, waiting and smirking at me. Can it be a challenge? I know that they’re willing to humiliate me, no matter what. I may handle something haunting in the night, but with these three girls-- I dread it.

I can feel my muscles tensed, a sign of weakness. So I inhale a big, deep breath and exhale, slowly making my muscles relax. “If that’s a challenge,” I answer with confidence. “then I accept it.”

(There'll be more, tomorrow. Make sure to be up-to-date with my posts)!