Creative Writing: Witches Get Scared Too

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When you are a 10 year-old kid, you feel like you are on top of the world! You are finally in the double digits- nothing can bring you down. It was my first Halloween feeling this way. So excited, ready to go out and conquer the brightly decorated streets of my grandparent’s neighborhood. I look in the mirror and adjust my sharply pointed witches hat right before I walk out; pumpkin bucket in hand. The whole family is together, ready for this adventure. Right before we walk out into the night, I pull my dad to the side, away from the chatter of excitement. “Dad, will you protect me from the chainsaw men?” They were my only weakness, my kryptonite. My pleading eyes look up at him, begging for him to say yes, “I promise.” was his reply. He puts his arm around me and leads me outside.

We walk outside and are hit with an explosion of light, screaming laughter, decorations, and running children. My eyes light up. Walking up and down the streets and up the paths to houses, I barely utter a word except, “Trick or treat!” and laughter. As candy overflows my bucket, I feel like I won the gold medal in the Olympics. Eyes still in awe, feeling my cape billow behind me, I come to an abrupt stop. I see it, the scariest street in the whole neighborhood. Only seconds after I scan the foggy road I hear the rippling blaze, like millions of killer bees swarming straight towards you. I stagger backwards, feeling like all my strength was sucked out of me. My dad comes from behind me and puts a strong, supportive hand on my shoulder. We walk into the unknown.

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This street is different; you can see and feel the change in atmosphere. An eerie fog covers the ground so you can barely see your feet. I look back, seeing the happiness and bright lights fade from my very eyes. I hear the blaze again, followed by a shrill of terror. I nudge closer to my dad. Closing my eyes I repeat, “You are strong, you are invincible.” I slowly open my eyes. There he is. I stop dead in my tracks, frozen by fear. He turns towards me. A slow and jerky turn, it seemed almost inhuman. Our eyes lock. He lets his weapon spit out one piercing war cry. I can’t take my eyes off of the pure white mask that covers his face. It all happened like a strike of lighting. He moved forward, I ran back, his weapon maximized to full power, I look for sanctuary, and then more goons join the masked man. There! I find a safe haven. A car parked on the corner of the foggy street. I practically dive behind it, panting. I break out into a nervous sweat while remembering I am all alone now. I am facing the opening of the street, where all the bright lights and excitement is. Pondering if I can make the run, I hear the slightest movement to my right then to my left. I hug my cheery orange pumpkin bucket to my chest. A single buzz starts. Then more jump in like a chorus chanting to their best ability. I cover my eyes with shaking hands. Then, they all pop out and surround me! I shriek like I am in a horror movie. I spring up and run straight through the group like red rover, sprinting all the way home. I felt like I was on the very bottom of the world.

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Creative Writing: Witches Get Scared Too. (2023, Apr 30). Retrieved from

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