By the time I stepped outside, the leaves were on fire. “Dad!” I called, “The autumn leaves of the apple trees are on fire!” No reply. I guess this was up to me now. I ran towards where the hose should be, coiled up like a snake. The hose wasn’t there.

Strange. Very strange. I circled the house for an hour and finally came to the very front of the house, and there, standing watching the crisp leaves burn in the scorching sun, was my father. His black hair, frayed at the tips, blowing in the wind.

“What are you doing, Dad?” I asked, “Where’s the hose?”

“Aislinn Celeste Charlize, what do you think I am doing?” He replied, “And why do you need a hose?”

“You’re practically watching the burning down the family fortune! You are not doing anything. If all of those apples had sold, well then we might have been rich. Why of all days did you just have to stand there? Why are you doing SOMETHING?!” I yelled at him.

“Where’s your mother?” He said cautiously.

“She’s in bed. Sick. Remember? The wife that you don’t seem to care about anymore?”

“Don’t seem to care about? What’s gotten into you lately, Aislinn?” He pestered me.

“What’s gotten into me? The fear of my mother dying and you doing nothing. You burning down the family fortune, that’s what.”

“How am I burning down the family fortune? I am NOT the sun or the person to be blamed, Aislinn!”

“STOP SAYING MY NAME! That’s it. I’m leaving. And I’m not returning. And I expect those leaves to be cleaned up by you, the person who has done nothing all this time.”

As I walked off, my father cleared his throat, “Has done nothing? Aislinn, come back!” But I didn’t listen, I just kept on walking. And I would not stop. I couldn’t change the fact that my mother was dying of cancer, but I could stop my father from being not a father.

I drove to a couple streets away from home, and parked my car on the side of the road and the wind’s watched as droplets of water formed on my cheeks and slid off my face like an icy slope. The noisy sobs echoed along the road. My sobs. H-How could he do this? Just watch and do nothing? It’s nearly Halloween, what does he have planned? A funeral? Funerals at this time of year, what does he want? A award? I think not.

I turned behind me and there was a long fence that goes all down the side of the road with open goldfields of hay and wheat. And on the fence, there are fresh pumpkins with spooky faces drawn on the faces.

I remember, before my older sister, Celeste left for college, for Halloween, we painted our pumpkins with the twins jumping all around, massive grins upon their faces. It was so much more child-friendly than carving them.

We placed them on the steps with a candle-lit lamp, so proud of our family’s handicraft! And, as an added bonus, because they were still whole we could make them into seasonal soups and other dishes after. It was delicious, I remember. But that was ages ago. I haven’t seen her since. Celeste is twenty-three years old, and she is my most favorite person in the entire world, incase you were wondering.

The pumpkin closest to me, stared at me straight in the eye. Watching me. I felt chills up my spine as I watched the pumpkin move. How could it move? I blinked twice and rubbed my eyes. And crawling on the ground towards me were spiders. I couldn’t see them, but I knew they were there. Thousands of spiders running towards me. And they were hungry.

Howling with fear, I opened my eyes to face a man the pumpkin on his head. He had no eyes, and as my mother said, “If you have no eyes, you have no soul.” I crawled away slowly as he staggered towards me, and dragging me towards him by my feet. Instead of me screaming, he did a strange thing. In this intense silence he somehow screamed with his whole body.

The eyes wide with horror, the mouth rigid and open, his chalky face gaunt and immobile, the fists clenched with blanched knuckles and the nails digging deeply into the palms of his hand.

“That’s cute but sir, you think you’re scary. But sir, I’ve seen scary- and you haven’t got his smile.” I said grinning as I slowly I tried to get up but quickly realized how futile it was when I had to bite my lip to keep from crying out.

Sharp, hurling pain lanced through my head and colorful spots flashed in front of my eyes, it felt like my whole body had been beaten and every movement caused some muscle or bone to ache. Regardless, I needed to get out of here…away from this thing.

Wincing in throbbing pain I started to grab at the cracks in the road to help me pull myself way. I was careful to not look at the man, I was pushing myself away to move, and extra careful to not to place my hands on the glass.

But there was one second, one second I would look back, and see the body of someone I knew and so I recklessly started crawling forwards again and…Crack.

My hand came down on a piece of glass and I hissed in pain as the man’s face swiveled around…and looked at me. I’m not scared of the cemetery, of the monsters at Halloween or my nightmares. This certainly wasn’t going to scare me but it did.

A knife in one hand, he poured gasoline onto the spark of fear in my belly, sinking it in with cold black eyes. All I ever did was offer love and ask for help. As he slid the knife in my pulsing heart, he said one word….

“BOO.”