The Stories In My Heart

OSS 13: The Visitor

It's Halloween night of 1934, my sister said that it'll be fun to go trick or treating that year as the weather was nice. Not too much snow unlike the previous years. I was eight-year old and she's four years older than me. I was wearing a black cape and white shirt, my mom put some white face power on my face and red lipstick on my lips, down to my chin and on my white shirt. She said that I'm perfect for a little Count Dracula especially that my skin was so pale. My sister was wearing a black long wig, a pointy hat of a witch, a black long dress, and a ghastly mask of an old lady with big pointy nose. I'm not a fan of this event. If other kids were excited it's because of the treats that they're getting, but not me. I hate everything about it.

Before the darkness totally consumed the lightness of the day, my sister and I went out so we can go to more houses. Though it's not snowing, we needed to walk on a muddy ground. We brought a torch to lit our ways. We walked hundreds of meters to reach our nearest neighbor, and possibly more than a mile to go around our twenty neighbors. I hated to walk around just to get a caramel apple. I hated to see the shadowy piles of trees on our walk-way that formed like a huge monster before my very eyes. Another thing that I hate about Halloween was the spooky make-ups and masks of children and adults alike that seems so real. They were horrifying; faces full of blood, some were like rotten, some were armless or even headless. I didn't know how they do it, but it really creeps the hell out of me as they're walking and reaching towards me. I couldn't recognize most of them, they're probably from another town. What I don't understand is that they're asking for my help. I told my sister about it; her laugh broke the tranquility of the night. She said I was imagining things, and it seemed that she really didn't see them.

I was hysterical and exhausted so we came back home. I told my parents, they too, didn't believe me, they said I just need to sleep. Mom cleaned me out, tucked me into my warm and cozy blanket, and I fell asleep at once. After like a long deep sleep, I felt someone shake my small body. My eyes were blinded by midnight darkness when I tried to open it. My small frame was embraced by a cold wind coming from the open window while the dark blue heavy curtain seemed to be dancing in agony. Mom never left the window open. I started quivering, my heart was pounding like my drum set toys. Something was pulling my blanket; I felt a cold hand touching my legs. I would like to scream but my voice was muted. A head suddenly appeared before my very eyes. She was so pale, blood dripping on her face, her eyes were circled in black, and her blond hair was so messy.

"Help me, Aeron... please help me," she pleaded as her voice was like coming from the deepest of a water-well.

I shut my eyes tightly, wishing it will vanish. "Get away from me!" I finally heard my trembling voice that keeps on yelling repeatedly. Louder and louder.

Until I felt the warm and comforting arms enveloped my tiny frame. "Hush, Aeron, it's mom," she said in a soothing tone, then little-by-little calmed my consciousness.

I heard someone was laughing. I slowly opened my eyes; my sister was holding that bloodcurdling mask of a lady. She's holding her tummy, very amused on her horrid prank. Our parents grounded her for weeks for what she did.

Every night since then, my dreadful screamed would break the stillness of the night. Different grimy faces visited me at night. My parents let me sleep with them for a few weeks. Then, Mom called the priest to bless our house, especially my room. They even prayed over me. When I went back to sleep in my room, it was peaceful once again.

I thought my dilemma was ended. But then when I was fifteen, my grandma died. We've traveled to a remote old town to pay our last respect. Her soul greeted me yet, I wasn't afraid, maybe because she's my grandma. But then, when we were sending her corpse to its final destination, a small graveyard at the back of the old chapel. There were only a dozen people attending her funeral as it was raining that day. I saw a lot of ghoulish corpses. They knew that I can see them. They're coming to me, asking for help.