Book Review: The Travelling Bag: And Other Ghostly Stories by Susan Hill

Yeah, I don't know why I keep reading Susan Hill either.


From the foggy streets of Victorian London to the eerie perfection of 1950s suburbia, the everyday is invaded by the evil otherworldly in this unforgettable collection of new ghost stories from the author of The Woman in Black. 

In the title story, on a murky evening in a warmly lit club off St James, a bishop listens closely as a paranormal detective recounts his most memorable case, one whose horrifying denouement took place in that very building. 

In 'The Front Room', a devoutly Christian mother tries to protect her children from the evil influence of their grandmother, both when she is alive and when she is dead. 

A lonely boy finds a friend in 'Boy Number 21', but years later he is forced to question the nature of that friendship, and to ask whether ghosts can perish in fires.


So I have a hate-hate relationships with Hill, I find her horror to be boring and pretentious, with a lack of sympathic characters. I have reviewed two of her works (read 4 I think): The Small Hand and The Woman in Black. This book contains four short stories, which feel like Hill's abandoned works. Some of them don't feel like they have proper endings. Unlike my usual way of reviewing short stories, I'm reviewing them indivdiually from memory instead of writing mini-reviews as I read them.

The Travelling Bag: So this is the Victorianish set and we learn the story of someone getting revenge and then random fear of moths for no reason. This has a weird Narrative device as someone telling their fellow club memember the worst, spookest case they ever worked. How he knows the information he does is never explained and doesn't feel like him actually tellling the story. This feels like a series idea and I thought all the stories were going to be told as if they were cases this guy had, had, but no it was just one off. It adds nothing, but set up for disappointment. If we had just been the actual story instead of the weird narrative deice, I would have enjoyed it better. 2/5 stars for sweeping bodies.

Boy Number 21: This is the worst story. So very little happens in it and I was expecting something big with the set up. The big problem is a bigging up to nothing. Not a field trip and a possible psychotic break. 1/5 stars for squished Sandwiches.

Alice Baker:  This is probably the best. It doesn't have a weird narrator and has a concise ending that makes sense. It also from a female character's POV and it wasn't Hill's typical, terrible ghost motivation. This one takes place in an old office building where a new staff member cause a stink. I Not sure why it's was the one left out of the burb. 4/5 stars for Office Politics.

The Front Room: It's Hill's favourite thing. A spiteful person for the sake of being spiteful. Then she a spiteful ghost. A family does a nice thing by taking in an old lady, the father's step-mother. Most of it is set up and then dur-dur-DUR. 1/5 stars for only a shower.

Overall, I give this book 1/5 stars for mediocre nonsense. This book is just bad. There's one story that's worth a read but the others' are Hill's typical mess of work, except some of these feel like Hill just gave up and declare them short stories instead.

Book Review: Bellman & Black by Diane Setterfield

Christmas does not feature in this book at all despite it going on for a lifetime.

ONE MOMENT IN TIME CAN HAUNT YOU FOREVER.
Caught up in a moment of boyhood competition, William Bellman recklessly aims his slingshot at a rook resting on a branch, killing the bird instantly. It is a small but cruel act, and is soon forgotten. By the time he is grown, with a wife and children of his own, William seems to have put the whole incident behind him. It was as if he never killed the thing at all. But rooks don’t forget . . .
Years later, when a stranger mysteriously enters William’s life, his fortunes begin to turn—and the terrible and unforeseen consequences of his past indiscretion take root. In a desperate bid to save the only precious thing he has left, he enters into a rather strange bargain, with an even stranger partner. Together, they found a decidedly macabre business.
And Bellman & Black is born. 

 This is not the sort of book you read to cheer you up but rather to enjoy misery.  There a lot of death in this book, I would its sort of it main theme. I also I know this get sold as a ghost story but its not really ghosts, more supernatural forces going on involving rooks. I don't maybe it is the ghost of the Rook William killed. I'm just that I wouldn't necessary say it ghost story. Yes, there a recurring strange man in black but he might not be a ghost per say.

The book is separated into three parts. William Bellman's life leading to deal, Bellman's life after it and part III is a tiny thing. I think it works for the book but I don't like how the chapters numbering resets at Part II. Through, that just mean like to know the number of chapters I've actually read of a book. Through out the book there is tadbits about Rooks somewhat corresponding to what going on in the story.

William Bellman is an interesting character, not perpendicularly lovable but do you feel for him. I really liked how well thought the background of characters are and their relationships with each other very rich. Even relationships from before William is born have been thought out.The characterisation was very good, they all felt rather real to me.

Overall, this was very good, creepy book. It will make you teary at times. It just generally interesting book. I gave it 4 out of 5 stars for a parliament of rooks.

P.S. Happy Christmas Losers, I didn't plan to put this up on Christmas. It just happen. At least next year I won't have to worry about the fact that last Wednesday of the year is on Christmas. No, it'll be New Years Eve.

Book Review: The Dead Men Stood Together by Chris Priestley

Have you ever pick up a book and wonder why you picked it up?
 
'The Devil is coming to your house.’

Crazy words begin a gripping story of madness, demons and death. Home from the sea, a boy’s uncle entrances him with tales of life aboard ship and of foreign lands. Soon the boy decides to join his uncle on his next voyage.

A violent storm blows the ship off course and the crew find themselves marooned in a sea of ice. As their despair grows, an albatross seems to befriend them and restore their hope. But seized by an evil madness, the uncle kills the great bird with his crossbow, and so condemns all on board to unimaginable horrors, of which life in death is the greatest . . .

This book and me didn't really mix well. I'm not why I initially wanted to read it either. I think it was because I had been tempted to buy another book by Chris Priestley. It just kinda dull. I don't know maybe if you like adventures stories for the sake of adventure, then it might be the book for you. It just wasn't mine.

I think my biggest problem is motivation. I mean most of the event that happen because of one person, but I never understand his motivation for doing what he doing. I suppose it might not be him doing per say, maybe just puts things in motion for spite but doesn't actually know what his actions will do. I don't buy insane and kinda evil as motivation since he wastes a lot of his own time.

My favourite character was the Harbour Master's son. What a shame he was barely in it. I guess the characters all fine, but I didn't feel much sympathy towards any of them and their fates. Maybe the protagonist's mum, I have a soft spots for mums (Hi mum, though you don't read my reviews and I don't really want you on my blog at all. I wish to leave, if you reading this now. Bye).

I found myself rather bored once we got to the second half of our sea voyage. All of the bad stuff happening, just wasn't that interesting. It was bit boring after a while. I had to make my self finish the last half of the book.

I gave this book for teaching the lesson of not trusting strangers just because they're family and not to leave home (well, that's what I got as the morals). I gave it 2 out of 5 stars for dead birds. I recommend it to people who like adventure without purpose and younger than me.

Book Review: Doll Bones by Holly Black

 Creepy Doll action with a male protagonist (mostly).


Zach, Poppy and Alice have been friends for ever. They love playing with their action figure toys, imagining a magical world of adventure and heroism. But disaster strikes when, without warning, Zach’s father throws out all his toys, declaring he’s too old for them. Zach is furious, confused and embarrassed, deciding that the only way to cope is to stop playing . . . and stop being friends with Poppy and Alice. 

But one night the girls pay Zach a visit and tell him about a series of mysterious occurrences. Poppy swears that she is now being haunted by a china doll – which claims to be made from the ground-up bones of a murdered girl. They must return the doll to where the girl lived, and bury it. Otherwise the three children will be cursed for eternity . . .

The main and important thing that is missing from the above summery is the Game. The trio (no, they never refer to that in the book) have this elaborate story going on which they act out with dolls which is the main reason Zach is so upset that about his father throwing out his toys. (From the honest point of view of twenty year old, I'd still be playing with dolls if I hadn't moved when I was 12 and they some how never made it into the house. Instead I write more and go through session of watching others play with dolls on Youtube). 

Zach instead of telling Poppy and Alice the real reason the Game is over, lies to them, saying he doesn't care about the game anymore. The Doll a.k.a. the Queen of their kingdom turns out to be haunted and leads them on to a quest.

The main theme is growing up and change, partly afterlife. Both are very depressing. The growing up theme includes drastic changes, growing apart and first romance which I ignored mostly as I'm actually still an eight year old that's not at all interested in that.

I'm a big fan of creepy dolls that are haunted and compared to all the other ones I've came across this doesn't really cut the mustard if solely basing it off that. I just don't think a real creep level is ever reached. Stuff happens but never constantly, though it is meant to be in question on whether or not the whole thing with the doll is actually true. You meant to wonder if Poppy has made the whole thing up with the purpose of leading Zach back into the game. I suppose its a better mystery than a horror (even twelve year old level).

There are few very unrealistic things that happen, which can be let to slide since this is a kid's book and makes the plot more interesting. I just say "Bus station" and "harbour" which will make sense once you read this book.

The three main characters are well defined. I personally think the strongest part of book is their friendship and the issues they work out through the book. Twelve is that awkward age where a lot of friendship from childhood can die or be severally weakened (Of course this tends to happen in Scotland more to do with this being the age to start Secondary school, but still). There hints of deepness to the characters, however this being a 250 page book, the hints were fine.

There are some lovely illustrations in this book by Eliza Wheeler. Petty and creepy. I do have a favorite illustration but it bit of a spoiler if I say which one. If actually interested its the one that features the label that been in my last four reviews (including this one).

Overall, I gave this books 4/5 stars. A few minor problems with it, but its still very good books. I probably eventually get my own copy, but not for a while as I'm broke and spent my pretty book fund on Sherlock Holmes (I regret nothing).

Disclaimer: I got this book off NetGallary. So for free for Review. Don't worry that doesn't effect my opinion at all. 

Book Review: The Small Hand by Susan Hill

Okay, any of you watch my BookTube videos know that me and Susan Hill are yet to make friends. Her ghost stories don't scare me nor do I find them even slightly spooky. Mostly baffled. I only keep reading as my local library has lot her books and they're short. 'The Small Hand' has not change my opinion.


The book summary goes like this:
Returning home from a visit to a client late one summer's evening, antiquarian bookseller Adam Snow takes a wrong turning and stumbles across the derelict old White House. Compelled by curiosity, he approaches the door, and, standing before the entrance feels the unmistakable sensation of a small hand creeping into his own, 'as if a child had taken hold of it'. Intrigued by the encounter, he determines to learn more, and discovers that the owner's grandson had drowned tragically many years before. At first unperturbed by the odd experience, Snow begins to be plagued by haunting dreams, panic attacks, and more frequent visits from the small hand which become increasingly threatening and sinister ...

 The main problem with this book is that I felt absolutely nothing for Snow (which is why I'm calling him by his last name). I really could not have cared less if he died. No one would have missed him. I feel no relief when he continues to not jump into various deep waters.

When I got to the ending I was like WTF. I so want to rant about how its ends, but I don't want to spoiler it for anyone after reading this review and still wants to read 'The Small Hand'. I will say it leaves you very sympathetic and it actually has a reason behind the "haunting" unlike "Doll".
I really left this book with nothing, no feeling or thoughts. This book is so scary that you could read in the middle of the night in a house alone during storm that knock out the power and still be 'meh'. 

While the plot content wasn't good, it was well written and still readable, so I gave 2/5 stars. Just though.

END IS NIGH!!! (and it has been for the past five hundred years)

So since the world is meant to end next Friday (21st December 2012), I thought I would write an end of the world story (sort of) and since Zombies is the favourite cause among the others on my college course. Also I do sort have got a plan if was zombies and I suppose in theory a virus could cause brain cells to die and cause crazed actions as attacking and eating people. (Also I need to stop using the word AND).
I'm frankly cynical about the world ending this year or the next as so many Americans seem to believe. Maybe its because I've already live through so many other "End of the Worlds". There seems to be at least one every decade since I was born or maybe the cold war. If there was some sort of disaster it will purely be coincidental. Maybe it only be America since that where the Mayas are from. My theory is that the Mayas either give up on a calendar that was hundreds years into the future or they died out before they could finish it. So blame the Spanish.

So I give you ZOMBIES!!!:

I walk slowly down the street, my bus was still ten minutes away. The street is quiet, nothing that shocking just usually there at least someone else waiting for the bus. Its last and only one that goes around the west villages from the town. I was sure I wasn't the only person who had gotten off here this morning. There still plenty of time. I'm just being paranoid. Seen too many horror films to trust silence fully.

Just my own gentle steps seemed to be the only noise. It kinda bugs me that I've started to hum by the time I'm under the shelter of the bus stop. I scan the street for any for sign of life. I known there's be people in the houses, but you just can't tell from the outside. I see a woman walking towards me. Even from a distance I can see her coat is stained. I stared at her openly, trying to figure out what the stain is due to my boredom and likely hood of never seeing this woman again. Dried mud. No dripped. Dried dirty water. Blood. No too much to be that. You're be dead if all that was your own.

I notice the woman is limping and her hair covers her face as she comes closer. I know the right thing is to ask if she okay, but my insight is to flee. Instead of doing either, I decided to ignore her, moving deeper into the shelter, and not bring attention to myself. I turn away from the women, her still coming closer and begin scanning the road for signs of the bus. I really hope its early for once. It probably be late, it always late.

I breath in the fresh air to almost vomit. There's a repulsive smell, similar to the one of the dead mouse my cat had hidden in the stair cupboard. It was maggot infested when we found it. However, this smell was worst. I look around the shelter looking for the source. The only unusually thing I see is the women. The bus stop had smelled fine yesterday. That can't be her, can it? Who could stand to smell that bad?

She walks by the shelter in front of me. Oh my god, it is her. I cover my mouth and nose in attempt to block the smell, it doesn't help. I stare at her urging her to just go on. She keeps walking slowly. Before stopping and turning as if confused. She sniffs the air.

Maybe it not her after all, but why did the smell get so worst if not. She walks into the other entry of the bus stop. She turns to me. She stops again. Her hands are state, filthy and defiantly covered in blood. Her nails are ruined, broken length wise and some are missing completely.

"Can I help you with something?" I ask hesitantly. "Are you okay?"  She doesn't replied but she begins to walk again. I move before she can touch me. She walks into the wall. She craws at it with hands. She begins to moan at it. I step back from her. There something clearly wrong with her. I grab my phone from my pocket to call an ambulance or something. 

I heard a motto coming, I'm hoping it the bus. I run out to the shelter and knocking over a man. 

"Oh, I'm so sorry," I say as I offer him my hand. He grabs onto it. I have him off the ground when bites me. I let go of him and he lands on the ground. I look my arm he's took a chunk out of fresh from my arm. I scan the road looking for help. I see a mass of people coming towards. My instinct is to run, I listen to it this time. 

I run to the opposite direction, thankfully I see my bus coming from that way. I bang on the door as it goes past me. The driver slams on the brakes and I pull the door open.t

"Just fucking keep going," I shout as the driver as I climb on to the steps. He looks at me as if I'm insane.

"Please I'm being chased and there no one else coming," I show him my bus pass even though he sees me everyday.

He finially starts going as the mad women from the shelter slams herself as the door he just shut. I can her teeth and there bloody. I gulp, falling into the front seat. I take in deep breaths trying to calm down. I feel hot and sweaty not from running. I look at my injured arm. The wound was full of pus, it was too soon for it to be inflected. Oh god that guy must have been ill or something. Fuck. I fill with panic. I have no idea what to do. I fight to keep my eyes open. I lose.

***

The bus is late again. I jump up and down trying to keep warm. It not working much, the cold has sceept into my bones. I keep jumping until I see the bus, I get my pass out now so I can just go straight to a warm seat in the back.

The driver just nods at me as I get in using my pass as a shield against eye contract. The bus only has a few people on it including a girl who passed out in the front seat. Probably just didn't get enough sleep the night before. I managed to get the seat that heater hides under. The bus is quiet is normal, slowly filling up with each stop. 

I stare out the window having forget to begin a book with me this morning. World around us is a story anyway. We soon leave the crowded sheets to the countryside that separates the town from the villages and farms. I'm just admiring the moon reflecting on the lake when I hear the scream of a women. I look up at the front to see my a girl attacking the back of the driver. Two men are trying to pull her off but its too late to stop the bus leaving the road heading straight to the lake. A scream leaves my throat even though I know its no good.

Yeah, never expect much from these blog written for stories. They can be rather forced. See you next week, as I have faith in us both to survive.

A Non-Christmas Story

Haló babies. So since it petty safe to start talking about Christmas now that we are a week into December (in my opinion you should only start thinking about Christmas once December starts). However, we not going to be talking about Christmas. Just have a random start to a story. Except to say there a Christmas tree up in my house.

Story.

 I stare beyond the window. I gup. I don't why but a sudden feeling of dread has came over me as if something terrible has happened or was going to happen. I shake my head. The street below the window is empty. How had I got to the window. I must have wandered here whist I was thinking.

I had now completely forgot my train of thought.  Trains. Oh, yes. I was comprehending the best way to travel down to Manchester. It was an old uni's friend's wedding, May. We weren't exactly close, but once upon a time we had been. We still kept tabs on each other. Its just we ended up on other sides of the Kingdom after we're Graduated. She in London and me in Dundee. It was just one of those things. We went from seeing each other everyday, to never seeing each other. We never actually had any thing in common. So only small chat and discussion about what other people are doing now. She was still a good friend. Even now I'm sure could relab on her.

Also lots of other uni friends are going. It be a union of sorts. I wonder if Beth is going to the wedding, I know she invited. Maybe we could share our a car down. It probably cheaper if we all go down that way instead of the train. Its just so expensive now a days. Though, there is always that sort of vintage and nostalgia to it. Going home on weekends and Holidays to the parent's that slowly stopped being home the more time I spent at Uni. No, silly to waste money and time.

I message Beth and see.  A road trip is always fun.

***

"What's the Hotel called again?" Jim asks for the fifth time. 

"The Abigail" Beth replies frustrated. "God, I'm glad we didn't take the train. This is not just outside of Manchester."

"It probably is to May," I say from the back. May seem to have no sense of distance. She would always end up late for meetings and classes because of it.

"I don't know why I took her word for it," Beth says continuing her rant. We had been driving around for a least hour looking for this place. None of us were that happy about it. We had been literally been driving for hours. "I should have googled this place before hand. Just imagine we had came down tomorrow. We would miss the whole bloody thing."

She starts to go on about the nonsense of a morning wedding.  I ignore her, she complained about the Nine clock ceremony six times already. It good thing she and Jim are perfect for each other. He always forgets and she always repeats. They've always been couple before there were one. The one you knew would eventually be together in ten years. Though, I could have missed walking in on them. Actually, the last time I had physically seen May was at their wedding. 

"Just imagine asking a pregnant women to come this distance." I smirk, I had forgotten how much Beth says "Just imagine", it was basically her catchphrase. Beth was only ten weeks pregnant. May couldn't have possibly have known she would be with child when she had invited her.

"I was tempted not to come."

"Yes, but just imagine the wedding without your awkward dancing." Beth turns and glares at me. Her dancing style had always been a sore point. I smile back at her. 

"Honey, you're a wonderful dancer," Jim says. Beth turns back to the front saying nothing. 

I look out the window to see a dirty sign proclaiming "The Abigail Hotel". The letters are scratchy. Its in desperate need of repairing. The road it points to is dirt tacked and framed by trees.I can see the faint outline of white building as we drive by. Its the eeriest thing I've ever seen.

"Jim, you just miss the turning." I say, full of dread. If its in my voice, they're don't notice.

"Fuc..."

Its takes us half hour to get back to that turn. It wasn't long enough.

~

That's all for this week folks, I'm just too tired to write more.

BB:HALLOWEEN!!!

Hi, since Halloween is such a special occasion to me and I feel I've almost negated it on here, I thought it deserved a Bonus Blog (it also happens to be Wednesday, possibly thinking of posting regular posts on Wednesday, if it happens it'll be next year). My last one was actually high quality, which is a rarity with my Sat posts, so I shall try to continue the trend.

Inspired by my recent discovery of Creepypasta.com. I can not for the life of me actually remember how I stumbed on to it. It was possibly Youtube, but that doesn't sit right with me. Oh, spooky. By the way, you can find me as PhoenixAngel on it, only in the comments for the moment. Also stay away from the uncategorised section if its dark outside or on alone and like me have too active imagination sometimes. Though, still alive at the moment.

 I thought I do my hand at scary story for you all. I would just like to say that it been a while and I want to get back in the swing of these since my NaNoWriMo is horror related. Not telling till Saturday.

Story:

It was Halloween and April was stuck inside. She had the intention of trick treating, but this year the monster had brought a thunderstorm with them. It probably creating the most cliche possible setting for a horror story, April was just waiting for the power to go to out. It thankfully didn't.

Still April found herself staring out into the rain filled street empty of trick or treaters. Any of other night it would be a normal sight, this night it was extremely sad one for April. The only sign of what occasion it was, was the drowned out pumpkins and decorations that had been put out early. She gave a side glance at the pumpkin that shared the window with her. It crookly ginned at her, she still need more practice at craving them. But it was alright for her second attempt, she had only been allowed to crave her own lantern since the last Halloween.

Her mother hadn't trusted with her knife till the ripe age of 13. Her age was actually the main reason that the lack of Halloween activity saddened her. She was so close from leaving the age of acceptable trick or treating, well until she had kids of her own which should be a long time away. She really only had two more years until everyone would just make due with parties.

Halloween falling on a school night had mean all the parties had been. It kinda annoyed April that no one really made a proper effect to celebrate on Halloween unless its actually date fell on Friday or Saturday. She had though.

She sat wearing her costume, semi-concious of not rubbing her white make-up off. She had choosen to go that year as a bloody ghost as it was the only horror creature she had never been. She began to stare at the flashes of light, just willing the rain to turn off before its too late. It was half-past-seven and if it didn't turn off soon then they're would be no point going out. April sighed loudly.

"April, why don't you just eat our trick or treat sweets?" said April mother while watching the TV.
That was another thing that depressed April, they was not a decent horror film on. The only one she had found in the listing was one she seen, and it had been so crap that it wasn't even funny. She could go watch all the Cartoon specials but she had seen them all too and just didn't feel like it. She would rather watch the nightmare of a Halloween.

"Its not the same," April muttered. The joy of Halloween sweets was earning them by walking to all the houses in the local area, performing the trick of your choice and then sorting your haul to see what you got.

April knew exactly what they had in terms of candy, just the multi-packets and plain fruit. What April wanted was tabit or chocolate apple. Not toffee ones, they just hurt her teeth. Only the homemade was had good quality apples, the supermarket ones always just the bad ones. If she had known that there was going to be a storm, she might have tried making her own. Yet, she had no cooking chocolate in the house and the apples were bit rotten.

"Why don't you go read or something?"

"Good idea," April sounding almost cheerfully, before exiting the room. The night was about to get Only to come straight back with collection of Classic horror stories and took her place back at the livingroom window. April sat there very still reading, if anyone had past the window they would have thought that April was just a very realisic decoration and of course get a shock when the reading ghost turned the page of its book.

As tempting as is to end the story here, as a happy tale of how written horror saved the night. This is not where its ends otherwise itself would not be a work of horror.

As April was reading the thunder stopped, but not the rain. There would be no going out at all. April was no longer sadden by this, as she was lost in the haunting of an old mansion that had its inhabits spooked to the cores. She was interrupt with the flash of light outside before lights inside disappeared.

"Mum," April shouted in her presumption that her mother had turned the light off in exiting. April had been so in glossed that she didn't realised that TV had went off too. She turned back to the empty room as the lights flicked back on. Her mother must have wander off during an ad.

April look back at the street, it was in complete darkness. The street lamps were out. April was confused by this as the street lamps were meant to have a back-up generator.

As she scanned her neighbours windows for their power status. She noticed a figure walking along the street, she was shocked by this. 'You have be a nutter to walk in that,' she thought to herself. She continue to watch the hooded figure as it got closer to her house. Getting bored of their slow pace,she went back to her book, but the words seem bury now and she just couldn't make them out.

She rubbed her eyes and stood up from the window. She was probably just tired and going blind in her old age. She figured she probably tell her mother about it though. April was about to walk out the door when she heard a knock at the door. She was tempted to ignore it, but decided to answer thinking it would be petty important to be out this weather. 

The front door was in off side bit of the livingroom, it was cold and dark as the radiator was never switched on. April flicked the light on, but they refuse to come on. April felt a swell of panic inside her, she ignored it. She opened the door before she had the chance to freak out.

The door open revealed, a small boy dressed in black at the door.

"Trick or Treat," he whispered to the door. April stood and stared at the lone boy. His eyes and hair were covered by a hood. The skin visuable was pale white. April couldn't tell if it was make-up or from the cold.

"Do your parents know your out?" April ask sweetly. She figured the boy must have sneaked out, she had to admire his spirt for that, but he only six years and his parents must be worried about him. It might have been the wrong question to ask but too late.

The boy just smiled at April and said

"They're know where I am."

April bit her lip.

"I'm sorry, but I don't we have any sweets," Her brother had probably made off with them by now and were in the back of the house. It didn't seem right to leave the boy alone even for a second, however she didn't want to invite him in. "I don't think you're going to have much luck tonight. I think most people gave up with the rain."

"You're wrong, I'm sure I'll get my treat," the boy said in still a low voice. "Don't you want to go trick or treating?" He ask and held up his hand to April.

She look into the pale pam. She did want to go trick or treating. It suddenly felt like her last chance, as though there wouldn't be another Halloween...for her.

She took the boy's hand and went out with him. That was April's last Halloween. Her mother discovered her daughter's electrified body lying at the window. The thunder had turn to lighting and April had just been too close to the socket that was right to the window when it hit the house.

Though her neighbours did swear they gave sweets to a ghost that Hallows Eve.

The End

Oh, by the bye, I'm going as Death this year. Merry Halloween.