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TRICK OR TREAT (standard:Ghost stories, 1248 words)
Author: Tisha RogersAdded: Oct 24 2007Views/Reads: 3579/2285Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
An old woman knows the truth about the haunted house and what really happened that night twenty years ago.

Rumor has it that the old house on the hill is haunted.  It certainly
looks haunted.  What shutters are left hang crooked on the windows, the 
glass is gone except for a few panes, shattered long ago by rocks 
thrown from a well-placed throw.  The house has lost its paint; here 
and there you can still see it had once been white, peeling now of 
course.  Leaning against the doorframe is the door, as the hinges gave 
way some years back. One side of the house is covered in some kind of 
dead vines that reach near the top of the roof. The roof itself is 
showing signs of disrepair; shingles gone and actual holes can be seen 
from a distance. To top it off there grows a huge weeping willow tree 
in the front. Its limbs bending down to touch the ground look like arms 
reaching out to pull you inside the eerie house.  Add to that the 
overgrown yard, the broken down picket fence that separates the yard 
from the road, town gossip and you have yourself a haunted house. 

In my thirteen years of life I have heard several stories about the old
house.  My favorite one being told by an old lady that lives a couple 
of houses down from me.  Her name is Ms. Johnson.  Her version is best 
because she was eyewitness to the fact. With a little coaxing she would 
tell the story as though it happened yesterday not nearly twenty years 
in the past. With Halloween being less than a week away, I strolled up 
there to hear it retold once again.  True to form, with a little 
coaxing we sit on the porch, her rocking in her chair and me on the 
steps. With a cup of hot cider in our hands and freshly baked, straight 
from the oven oatmeal-raisin cookies she started her story. 

“Well,” she says, “The date isn't hard to remember because it was
Halloween night.  The night ghosts and goblins, witches and vampires 
roam the streets looking for sweet treats.  The couple I worked for, 
Mr. and Mrs. Robins didn't like this night and refused to participate 
in it.  Year after year they refused to give the children treats when 
they knocked on the door, which resulted in all kinds of tricks being 
played on them.  The children would throw toilet paper into the air; 
the paper would come unwound as it fell, covering the tree branches 
before hitting the ground.  Sometimes there would be wet toilet paper 
stuck to the sides of the house, which would have to be scrape off. 
They would take bags of flour and pour it on the ground warning other 
trick or treaters that it was a marked house–do a trick because you 
wouldn't be getting a treat. The following day the yard would be such a 
mess as each group of treaters had their own form of tricks. 

On this particular Halloween night I was answering the door to tell the
youngsters that we had no treats.  The Robins thought that by not 
turning the porch light on the children would not come, but it seldom 
work that way. Oh, how I wished I had treats for the little ones they 
were so darling dressed in their costumes. They were dressed as 
princesses, pumpkins, pirates, skeletons and ghosts.  Some had on 
costumes of cartoon characters or action heroes.  But all were turned 
away without a treat from the Robins' home. 

After a couple of hours the children ceased coming to the door, the
house was so quite that Mr. and Mrs. Robins dozed in their chairs in 
front of the fireplace.  One hardy little knock brought Mrs. Robins out 
of her chair, “I'll get it.” She says, hobbling to the door with her 
cane, I not far behind.  When she opened the door there stood a small 
witch, even with her pointed black hat she couldn't have been over 
three feet tall. “Treat or trick?” the little witch asked.  “I have no 
treats you ugly little child,” Mrs. Robins says raising her voice, “Now 
be gone with you before I hit you with my cane.”  Striking the door 
with it. 

The little witch took a step back and said, “If you have no treat for me
to eat, then I shall haunt your house morning, noon and night. I will 
move your things so you can't find them. I will hide under your bed and 
grab your ankle when you pass.  I will hid in you closet and cupboards 
and jump on you when you open them.  You are a mean and selfish person; 
year after year the children have given you a chance at kindness now 
most of the children are frightened of you.  Now you will be frighten 
right here in your own house.” Mrs. Robins began shouting, “Then get on 
with your haunting you ugly little creature and leave me alone. Off 
with you I say.” again striking the door with her cane, “And don't come 
back next year either!” 

That very night strange things started to occur.  First, all the lights
would flicker, go out then come back on.  The curtains moved like a 

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