I know I just published a post, but this is in response to The Daily Prompt and I just couldn’t resist answering it!
As a child, I was always a prankster, but a few days before my last Halloween, I went a bit too far with my hijinks with terrifying a young neighbor boy by scratching on his window screen while making ghostly noises. Getting caught by his mother, resulted in every true mischief-maker’s nightmare; my parents banned me from Trick-or-Treat. The one night of the year dedicated to puckish pranks, and I was banished to doling out candy to little kids dressed like witches and super heroes.
In the days before my favorite holiday, I tried every method possible to cajole my parents into giving in and allowing me to participate, but to no avail. I was forced to dress as a friendly fairy princess and hand out full-sized Hershey Bars and homemade candy apples to the masses of knocking children. Worst of all, my parents, who always had a group of friends over on Halloween, had invited the parents over of the boy who I’d scared. Oh, the shame!
My twelve-year-old grumpiness mounted as I served up treats to the friends that I usually ran the neighborhood with. One of them even had the cojones to show me the big roll of toilet paper that he had hidden in the pillowcase that he collected candy in. I shoved a candy apple in his bag, hoping the red shell would crack, as I thought of all the lovely neighborhood trees that I wouldn’t be decorating with streamers of Charmin.
I’d grumbled through nearly all two hours of candy giving, when I saw a tall Trick-or-Treater ambling up my front yard. He or she was wearing an oversized fur coat and black ski mask. “This one’s definitely too old to be collecting candy,” I thought to myself. I rolled my eyes as the behemoth candy grubber mumbled “Trick-er-treat!” in a low menacing voice. I begrudgingly went to drop a candy bar into his outstretched pillowcase, when suddenly a leather gloved hand shot out from the over-size coat and grabbed my arm. “You’re comin’ with me!” the muffled voice said, as the tall Trick-or-Treater began pulling me down the front yard. I fought, but this person was strong. I screamed, but no one seemed to care about the kidnapping of a disgruntled fairy princess on Halloween night. Finally, halfway down my front yard, my captor raised a gloved hand to his mask and pulled it off to reveal the smiling face of MY GRANDMOTHER! I was flooded with relief and dissolved into laughter as she pulled me into a big bear hug!
That spooky night, this lowly prankster got a taste of her own medicine. Did it stop my impish nature? Not wholly, but I never frightened a neighborhood kid again!
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