Random Writing Quote:

“Who is more to be pitied, a writer bound and gagged by policemen or one living in perfect freedom who has nothing more to say?”

--Kurt Vonnegut

Will Write for Food Contest

The winner for October 2013 was Steven G. Jackson.

October 2013 Will Write For Food

Back to School Night

By Steven G. Jackson

Someone has to pay. Who puts Back to School Night on Halloween? Only my lame school, that’s who.

We’ll see how that works out for them.

Oh, sure, they made the excuse that horrifying weather for the past week caused it to be postponed numerous times, and this was the first and last night they could hold it. Something about a district rule about doing it in October.

They didn’t want horrifying. I’m giving it to them anyway.

All the neighborhood parents are going. So there’s no one home to hand out candy. To see my hand-made costume. That sucks.

My parents offered to take me to the mall for candy. But that’s not the same. I waited all year to cruise the neighborhood, impressing them with my costume. I spent months on my costume. And the make-up. I look authentic. I even smell authentic. Just like the real deal. I should know.

I’m so pissed.

The district honchos who made this decision will be there for the opening remarks. We’ll be there, too. The school’s only a block away.

I am a little concerned, though. What if I can’t control him? What if he kills everyone?

I’ll have to worry about that later. I must look perfect. It’s my favorite night of the year.

My parents are leaving for the auditorium now. That’s damn inconvenient. I don’t really want my parents to get hurt. Why couldn’t they just stay home.

It’s not like my stupid teachers are going to have anything insightful to say. My teachers suck. I want them to meet Ivan. That will mess with that know-it-all attitude of theirs.

Who’s Ivan, you ask? I found him. He’s like a pet. Only not. You’ll see.

I’d say I saved his life that day in the woods, but I don’t think he’s alive. I found him burying himself in the soil, trying to avoid the sun, but he was so weakened by the daylight, he wasn’t going to make it. So I helped dig. Then I covered him up.

That night he came to see me, and I let him in. I was a little afraid, but he seemed genuinely grateful, and now he lives in the basement. We set up his coffin, his earth, and everything. Good thing my parents never go down there. I’m not sure what Ivan would do. I told him he can only hurt people I tell him to. But he gets thirsty.

Fortunately, I have a lot of people who piss me off.

Ivan has risen. The sun is down. He’s nodding his approval of my costume. At least there’s that.

Time to take him to Back to School Night. One they’ll never forget.

Trick or treat? I’m going with trick. Ivan gets the treat.

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