Knock Knock

Margie heard the doorbell ringing for what seemed like the 50th time that evening. She struggled to her feet, bones and muscles protesting and headed out into the hallway to laboriously undo the bolts and locks to her heavy oak front door. She didn't flinch though when greeted by a tiny Frankenstein's monster and a putrid zombie, just handed over a bag of sweets then shuffled back to the TV to watch Ian argue with Phil on Eastenders while they too were interrupted by trick or treaters. She couldn't understand the sudden interest and commercialism of Halloween. Wandering around in the dark dressed as a freak and begging for treats seemed morally wrong. Last year she'd forgotten to buy the requisite packets of candy and had to spend the following morning washing dried egg off her windows - it had got all stuck around the leading and the effort quite wore her out. Why couldn't the kids go around offering to treat old ladies instead? That would certainly be more community-spirited than feeding the coffers of retailers and dentists.

Margie chuckled to herself. She was becoming a grumpy old woman and that would never do! She'd reached her 90s without complaint and intended to stay cheerful til she met her maker. Margie felt lucky; unlike many of her friends, she was able enough to stay in the house that she and generations before her had made home - even if she needed a bit of help here and there and the poor old building was getting a bit crumbly around the edges. They suited each other just fine - a couple of dowagers growing older together. So, thanking her blessings, she resolved to inject a bit more fun into her next door-opening and treat giving.

But, it was getting late. The Eastenders' closing credits has been and gone and and as a blanket of tiredness wrapped around her, she found herself dozing off to the soft spoken Welsh lilt of the newsreader and the gentle creaking of the old house as it settled down for the night.

KNOCK KNOCK

Margie was startled from her slumber and was on her feet heading to the door before she realised it. A motley crew awaited her and she laughed out loud at the best costumes of the night - each was dressed in period garb through the ages from Elizabethan times right up to a well-heeled suffragette. They were also the oldest trick or treaters she'd ever seen with white hair reflecting back the moon. However, their eyes glinted with such a childish mischief that when they suggested Margie join them, she didn't hesitate. In fact, it felt like the most natural thing in the world to want to do!

As they floated off down the garden path together, Margie was distantly aware of a bit of a commotion going on in her front room as 'the nice lady who helps me get ready for bed' escorted ambulance crew and police in sombre fashion to her old armchair in front of the now silent television.

A ghostly tale for the Halloween Party at A Fanciful Twist. There will be many creatures of darkness running amok over there... go visit... if you dare!!

If you like my spooky stories, there's another lurking here and one more behind the cobwebs...