Theme Thursday: Halloween

Nobody comes to our house on Halloween.

Staring out the bay window, my shadow breaks the warm glow that pierces the inky black stain of night laying across the hill. In the distance, headlights swim the roads like a river, carrying souls, wrapped in masquerade, to haunt the houses down each lane. Splaying my hand, reaching for them, vibrations of long skeletal fingers on leafless limbs rake back against mine through the glass.

Nobody comes to our house on Halloween.

Moonlight shimmers off the gravel road winding up the hill, disappearing behind the murk of the family cemetery, where shadows deepen, sucking all the light into the black hole of lost souls. Two graves lay open, mouths waiting to be fed any who trespass. We found a boy there once, huddled against the cold breath of death at the bottom of the concrete sarcophagus, where he fell during my birthday party.

Nobody comes to our house on Halloween.

Woods surrounding the hill, erupt with the rattle of old bones, trees rubbing against each other, we lie to ourselves. Babies cries scream hard on the night wind, it must be cats, we try to believe. Hearts beat staccato, slow tongue of terror worming up the spine, as a figure passes between the solemn rows of names chiseled in stone, finding its home then winks out of sight.

Nobody comes to our house on Halloween.

Voices beckon from empty rooms, thumps against the closet door, footsteps running down the floor. All Hallows Eve, the one night when the ghosts don't seem real, comes and goes as the lights go out.

Nobody comes to our house on Halloween, but they are always there.



If you want to enjoy other takes on the theme check out all my friends at Theme Thursday.