I’m going to tell you something that happened to me last Halloween. I have had a very hard time coming to terms with what happened, and I’ve only been able to trust one other person with my story. He suggested that I tell it here.
I brought this up with my psychiatrist several times and she’s written it off as stress-induced acute psychosis. Let me be clear- I have no history of mental illness although I was struggling with some lingering grief at this time. I am certain that what I witnessed was not a result of this grief.
Last year, I took my two children trick-or-treating like I do every year on Halloween. Unfortunately, it fell on a Monday, and I had to wait for the kids to get out of school before getting them ready. The day started off dreary and the misty showers continued into the late afternoon, which was absolutely ideal. When 3:30 came the kids were excited to get their costumes on and head out. They looked adorable and their joyous anticipation was contagious. I was absolutely reeling with vicarious excitement. Halloween was always my favorite, and it was pure bliss to hang out with the kids on a spooky, drizzly night.
The first thirty minutes or so went as expected; the kids darting from house to house, stopping to show me the variety of candy they had collected. It was good. It was normal. Eventually we ended up at a small house about two blocks down from our own. I had seen this particular house many times during my walks but nothing about it stood out to me. It was a plain, modest looking yellow house with virtually no lawn decorations or vegetation other than a small lawn and a single maple tree.
There was no porch light and there didn’t seem to be any lights on in the house. So, I told the kids we should move on to the next in case the owners were away or didn’t want to be bothered. But you know how kids are- it was Halloween, and they were wired for extortion. This house may have had candy and that was an opportunity they couldn’t pass up. I figured it couldn’t hurt but something in my mind told me to walk up to the front door with them instead of hanging back near the sidewalk.
They knocked modestly on the door and waited a few moments. As the door creaked open, a small elderly woman peeked into the opening and gave a light, tired looking smile. I half-expected a terrifying, devious witch but I was pleasantly surprised to see that she was quite normal. She was probably just not that into Halloween. She placed a couple pieces of candy into the kids’ bags and nodded in response to their thanks. I smiled politely, thanking her and turned to leave when she beckoned me with a curl of her fingers. “Yes, mam” I replied and leaned in to hear her.
“You have beautiful children, and I know you celebrate in innocent fun…”
“Oh God, she’s gonna tell me about the unholy, Pagan occultist blasphemy that is Halloween” I thought.
“Some of the children out tonight are not really children”.
I don’t know how long I stood in this woman’s doorway with what had to have been the most impolite look on my face.
I started to ask her if she was referring to older teenagers because I’ve heard people complain about that before, and it agitated me a bit because I’d be collecting candy too if it was socially acceptable.
“You’ll be able to see it if you pay attention. Something will be off. The proportions of the limbs, the sound of the voice. Some of them aren’t children.”
“Mam, I-”
“I’m only telling you because one of them is following you.” she said, clearly trying to be delicate but there was haste in her voice.
My heart sank.
Sure, she was likely declining a bit… cognitively. But her words shot through my veins and left behind an icy suspicion.
I felt nauseous and I had enough of the encounter, so I simply walked away.
“She’s fucking crazy.” I muttered to myself.
“Mommy! You shouldn’t curse.” my daughter sang, skipping towards the next house.
I chose to shake off what the woman had said and continue enjoying the night with my kids. We continued this way, house to house, until I could tell their little feet had grown tired. They started dragging behind me a bit and I decided to head back towards our house. It was a bit darker than when we started out, and the temperature dropped quite a bit.
Now, we had just moved to this neighborhood about six months before, and I really prioritized the kids getting the opportunity to make friends. There were a few instances throughout the night that both of them saw other kids from their classes and said hello, or even walked with them to a few houses before going their separate ways. I made polite conversation with their parents and smiled and waved to my kids’ friends, but I didn’t explicitly remember any names or faces.
So, when a boy that looked to be about my son’s age called out to him from a couple houses down, I wasn’t sure whether we had encountered this kid earlier in the night or not.
“Aidan!” He waved excitedly to my son, like second graders do.
He looked quite a bit like my son but lankier, with longer, darker hair.
My son waved back shyly, as he always does. And the boy came running awkwardly over to us.
“Hi, Aidan. I like your FortNite costume.”
Aidan looked uncomfortable, but he always kind of did when confronted with unexpected social situations. He thanked the kid and turned to walk in the direction of our house.
“Are you in Aidan’s class?” I asked, trying to sound pleasant even though I was dead tired.
“Oh no, I just see him at recess.” he responded, excitedly. In hindsight, his gleeful giggling was a little excessive.
“Okay, well we’re heading home, are you parents nearby?” I asked with genuine concern, since I didn’t see many families around anymore.
“Ummm” he started, nervously.
“I don’t see my dad now, but he must be waiting down that block towards my home.” He pointed in the direction we were going.
“I’ll walk with you until we get there.” He declared instead of asked.
So, we continued walking, the kids chattering among themselves. Well- more so my daughter asking Aidan’s recess friend a plethora of questions and him answering with short answers and frequent giggles that began to sound more and more forced. Aidan looked as uncomfortable as ever and I realized just how tired my feet were, just how dark it had gotten.
The drizzle had stopped but a mist lingered in the air, making the air heavier.
“Mommy, what did that lady say to you? At the yellow house” My daughter asked.
“Nothing, baby. She was complaining about the teenagers.”
“Mommy.”
“Yes. Baby.” I was exhausted. My daughter lowered her voice to a whisper.
“I’ve never seen him at recess. I don’t think Aidan has either. He didn’t even know the name of our school. And we’ve been walking for a very long time. When will we be home?”
“Honey, I-”
I checked my phone… How was this the first time I’d checked my phone?
11:54.
Fuck.
What the fuck.
“Mommy, I’m scared. I want to go home.”
My heart began to race, and my legs turned to jelly.
“Guys, how- when did it get so late I don’t-”
I looked at the little boy standing in front of us. His face shifted continuously back and forth from the excited and nervous smile he had shown me at first to a solemn and indifferent stare, then to a manic sneer of dupers delight. These expressions kept looping from one, to the next, to the last. Over and over.
I felt it overwhelmingly strenuous to look away. But the sound of fear in my children’s voices was enough to sober me for longer stretches of time.
I closed my eyes tight, gripping both of their arms tightly.
“Aubrey, Mommy’s confused. Tell me what’s going on.”
“We keep trying to walk and you keep stopping and staring at him. We keep yelling for you to stop! Please Mommy I want to go home.”
With my eyes shut tight and my hands gripping their arms even tighter, I shouted, “What the fuck are you? What do you want.”
His voice was shrill and distorted. “Spare five minutes more. We’re nearly there now. I’ve gotten to know you so deeply, Katherine.”
I could feel the vomit rising in my throat and my chest was on fire. I wasn’t confident that my legs could carry me.
“Guys, run home. Now. I’ll follow.” My brave and gallant babies obliged.
“Don’t leave this unfinished, you’ll force me to show up again.”
I ran, as fast as I ever had to catch up to the kids and pull them inside our home.
I said this at the beginning, and I’ll say it again. Almost nobody believes me about this. My kids knew something was wrong with Mommy and something was off about the boy, but they aren’t able to quite put it together and honestly, neither am I. I’m sharing this because it may save someone’s life. I don’t know what this entity is, but it looks very much like a child. And it completely removes you from reality.
If you encounter a child you don’t know on Halloween this year, look for signs that something is off. The limbs, the voice, the demeanor. If anything feels wrong, do not engage. Something was left unfinished that night and I believe that it’s coming back for me.