Sumehra Mamun

You wake up to the smell of something in the air––candy? Pumpkin? You’re not sure. You check your bedside table and glance towards the Halloween-themed calendar. The word October is bolded, the letters melting off in a manner that is supposed to resemble blood or some other unwanted substance. Day 31 is circled; you did it yourself last night in excitement for the coming day. Who cares if you’re a 17-year old senior about to enter college? No one is too old for Halloween!

The day starts off perfectly: you wear your favorite ugly sweater, the ends frayed a little bit but not enough to become unwearable, with an orange so vivid that one would spot you from a mile away. Pumpkin spice latte in hand, you step onto the sidewalk, taking a deep breath of the crisp fall air. The red leaves jostle one another and whisper as you walk towards school, as if in warning of impending doom. JP Stevens isn’t your favorite place to be, but there was no reason to worry on this beautiful day. 

You open the doors, and upon entering, you’re surprised by the lack of students. The usually busy hallways seem to still; the posters on the walls are silent, no longer bustling with the energy of the students that had created them. To your horror, the door locks behind you. Is this some Halloween prank? You walk through the school, taking in its barren appearance. The dimly-lit hallways flicker every now and then; that must be from the recent rain storms. You startle when a couple of ceiling tiles fly open and a cloud of accumulating dust descends on you. An oily green liquid spills from the water fountains, flooding the tiles of the hallway. A chill travels down your spine, but you keep walking. 

Your pace becomes quicker, your footsteps become louder, you can hear your breath echo around the school. But, all of a sudden you stop. A lonely trash can rests in the center of your path, disturbing odors wafting from it in thick waves. Lying below a leaking tile, it catches each drop of a dark liquid with a ringing drip…drip…drip… 

Maybe the next part is your imagination, but you swear that the wheels start to move towards you with an unsettling screech. You back away, eager to escape this horrid contraption, but a noise stops you in your tracks. Is someone laughing? Whipping around, you check your surroundings thoroughly, but to no avail. I swear I heard something. As if mocking your confusion, you hear the laugh again. 

Now you’re running. 

You pass by the elevator, the doors wide open, fog looming out of the narrow entrance. You rush towards the bathroom, ready to hide in the comfort of a small space. It’s locked. You bang on the wood, only to stare defeatedly at the “Out of Order” poster plastered on the door. 

An open classroom catches your attention. Rushing in, you close the door and drift away from the dangers lurking outside. It’s your English classroom. You sigh with familiarity. This is my comfort space, you think as you walk towards your desk. A white paper catches your eye. Your test? But that’s not for another week. Your name is written at the top, and all the answers seem to be filled in. How is this possible?

To your shock, a red X accompanies every question. All of them are wrong, and you don’t remember taking this assessment. This can’t be. This is your worst nightmare. You back away, terrified, wishing that you were back home, in your bed, waking up to a––

Click! Your eyes open as your alarm goes off. The time reads 6:00 AM. Your calendar reads October 31st, but you don’t feel so excited. For some reason, you wake up with a bitter taste in your mouth, nothing like candy or pumpkin at all. The feeling of confusion is accompanied with a slightly fearful tremor…Perhaps it was a bad dream. Or perhaps, it’s simply the spirit of Halloween.