The Old Woman
In the old house at the end of the road, there lives a woman no one knows… She sits watching from her window every night as if waiting for something to come along. She cackles loud for so long and loud, that everyone knows that she means to bring hell… The little boys and girls run in freight as the old woman watches them through peered eyes. They know her wickedness is about to descend at night. Now it is time for them to hide. It is said she comes out but once a year, a night that all have learned to fear. A day in which they now call the hollows… The day in which all use to find happy to walk and follow. The Jack-o-lanterns gaze is known to bring them harm. It signifies as a warning about all that is to go on. For when they carve the pumpkin and set it on the door… It is a sign of her reward, a sign of discord. She will sweep her porch and call upon her old black cat as the night begins to sink fast. She smiles at the children from under a wide brim hat, who know to avoid her gaze and run off fast. Yet do not be fooled, for on the day hollows your no longer safe, for those children it has always been this way. With in the air a cackle howls. A cat hisses and begins to growl. The owl hoots as it turns forsaken head trying to warn all to hide away from the dread. Then with a cast of her finger, she begins to raise the dead. From the cemetery they climb commanded by her magic threads, signifying it is time for darkness to descend. On her broom, she takes to the air rising before the moon for all to see her shadow. The townsmen run in freight as they have done every Halloween night. The lanterns go dull, as the old woman works her spell. She cries out three times before signalling the arrival of hell. From house to house she goes showing no mercy for their lack of marrow she feels not care nor sorrow, for her victims know that to protest will bring no tomorrow… With cracking bones and chatting jaws, the crunching of the undead marches along. They snap-through twigs and the stomp upon the leaves. They make their way to each house with ease. Upon their doors, they bang three times as they demand the old woman's sacrifice. One by one they gather their charms of chocolate and sugar which their master demands and it is hers to belong. Over and over the goblins and ghouls bang upon drums, tormenting the locals just for fun. They threaten to capture, they threaten to steal, all the kids from the parents who do not reveal. Through of the streets, the creatures begin to scream and scream. Within the crickety homes the mothers and fathers know no hope, they know no peace. For if they give not just one gift, the witch will cast a spell that will deal with it! For on this eve all is her to claim, give her the sweets or your child might be what is replaced! When the moon begins to fall her shadow ceases to be cast… The undead return to their graves vanishing quicker than a flash! With in the old ladies home sits bag after bag of treats that should have gone to the children yet was to be hers all along. Yet to her this is all she is owed, for none of them cared before she got old… Now they would learn what it meant to be afraid. To be deprived of their sweets on this day! Through the year the old lady stares waiting for this night. When she will get more than enough sweets to last her for her life… Yet it is not about the taste, nor is it about the discord. Rather it was because she was never allowed to stuff her face. So head this warning and head close. Be careful about who you deprive… Or you may create a witch for the rest of your life! Give a treat, and avoid a trick or you may have to deal with the undead instead! Read the full article