Alan: Guess whaaaat… Whenever he texts me that, it means one of two things. Either he’s going to tell me something incredibly exciting for the both of us, or he’s going to tell me something that’s incredibly exciting for him. Me: What lmao Alan: I got that costume we found at the mall last week! I think I’m going to wear it to Jackson’s Halloween party tonight. Me: You mean that weird ass scarecrow costume??? You know that gave me bad vibes…. Me: Also, what happened to us going as Tommy Ross and Carrie White? I already covered my homecoming dress in fake blood :( Alan: Aww c’mon Bex. You can still be Carrie. No one knows who Tommy Ross is. We can wear different costumes and still have fun together. Me: True, I guess. I’m going to finish getting ready and then I’ll text you when I’m on my way. And by that, I meant, “I was actually really looking forward to wearing a couple’s costume with my boyfriend to the party tonight, but I love you and I remember how in love you were with that stupid burlap mask so I’m just going to deal with it and have a good time.” He’s such a dork and I can’t even deal with him sometimes. I shudder at the idea of what his annual Halloween prank will be tonight. He never fails to come up with something. I set my phone aside as I finish getting my hair ready. Never did I think I would ever have to figure out how to make myself look good while also looking like I just had a bucket of pig blood spilled all over my head. Bloodied up and ready to party, I check my phone once more as I head out to the car. Alan: get over here soon Alan: like asap Me: Dude. Me: I told you that I was going to text you when I was on my way. Alan: i just want to see you bex Me: I’ll be there in 15, okay weirdo? Alan: ok I don’t know what kind of spooky Halloween bullshit he’s pulling but I am not a fan. Like, I love Alan’s sense of humor. It’s my favorite thing about him. This joke, however, is just making me uncomfortable. God knows, I’ll just end up letting it go like I have everything else tonight. *** Pulling into his driveway, I notice that he’s not waiting for me outside. He always waits for me outside. I decide to check my phone one more time.
Alan: cant wait for you to get here Alan: where are you Alan: i miss you baby What the fuck? “Baby?” Never in the two years we’ve been dating has he ever called me that. Wait. My phone goes off again. Alan: i see you Alan: come inside I look over to find him watching me through the window. Of course, he’s wearing that dumb mask so I can’t even see what giddy face he’s making at me behind it. Me: Come on, Alan. Let’s go. We’re going to be late if you keep playing games. Alan: but i want you to come in first Me: Alright, fine. I’m coming. When I get in there, I am absolutely going to kick his ass. We promised Jackson we would get there early to help him finish setting up, but at this rate, that’s probably not going to happen. As I get closer to the door, he backs away from the window and into the house where I can’t see him. When I go inside, I can’t find him anywhere downstairs. I start to get even more frustrated when I hear my phone go off again. Alan: upstairs bex Alan: now Against my better judgment, I follow his creepy, virtual directions. I don’t get what he thinks is so funny about this until I realize it’s nothing funny at all. I enter Alan’s bedroom to find him on the ground, limp with a scythe driven into his chest. He’s dressed in a white suit, now stained red. He was going to dress up as Tommy after all. He was never actually going to go as the scarecrow. That was going to be his prank. Still processing the scene in front of me, I hear footsteps and turn around to find the scarecrow right in the doorway. “WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?” I scream as he lunges at me, pinning me against the wall by my throat. He remains silent. His silence breaks with a gasp of pain as I grab the lamp on Alan’s dresser and smash it on his head. While he’s disoriented, I take the opportunity to pull the scythe out of Alan’s chest and turn back to face the scarecrow. I suddenly feel a strange rush as I look him in the eyes, holding his own weapon. As I hold it up, I stammer, “I don’t know who you are or why you’re doing this but you’re not going to kill me like you killed my boyfriend. You’re not going to hurt anyone like you hurt him ever again.” I feel a sudden strength coming from those words, but then I black out. Now all I know is there are two dead bodies in this room. One of them is my boyfriend. The blood on my dress isn’t so fake anymore. Comments are closed.
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