This story is a true story from my childhood.
This is not particularly horrifying, but it
was still rather disturbing when it happened.
Not to mention the mere speculations I now
have as an adult make it sound like it could
have been even worse than I remember as a
kid.
Here’s the story:
Halloween has been my favorite holiday ever
since I was three years old.
I love dressing up in costumes, getting candy,
carving pumpkins, looking at all the fun decorations,
watching the films, and, as I got older, I
enjoyed the supernatural aspects of it.
However, there was one certain occasion that
happened to me every Halloween for the first
four or five years after I turned three years
old that was an unwelcoming sight.
At least I don't remember the exact number
of times because it happened so long ago in
my childhood, but it’s an incident that
I’ll never forget.
Now mind you, what happened every year was
nothing violent or anything like that, but
it was creepy for me to witness at such a
young age, especially when it made my parents
uneasy as well.
Every Halloween since I was three, my parents,
siblings, and next-door neighbors would start
our trick-or-treating trip on my street.
It’s important to note that my street has
four circles like cul-de-sacs but only one
exit.
After hitting each house around these cul-de-sacs,
we would head to the very end of the street
to go to the next street and a series of houses
over.
But as soon as we would reach the end, an
old rusty crappy looking car would be blocking
it.
If you’ve ever seen Spike’s car from Buffy
the Vampire Slayer, that was pretty much this
car.
My parents would tell us to wait as it seemed
the person inside was driving by.
What made the situation creepy wasn’t the
fact that the man was driving slowly.
No, what made it creepy was that when I looked
at the driver, I got automatic bad vibes from
him.
Like in the back of my child's brain a human
instinct was telling me to stay away.
The man always wore this very gross looking
alien-like mask.
I can’t remember the exact details; all
I remember was the yellow tainted skin and
his gross brown hair.
I always hated the way he stared at us.
He would slowly move his head to look at every
single one of us, and as he drove on, his
head would slowly move back to keep staring
at us.
Yeah, I know!
That’s not the scariest or worst thing to
happen.
He could’ve been trying to scare everyone
as a Halloween prank, but the thing I hated
was that every single year he was always there
at the same time.
At the end of my street eyeing my siblings
and me down.
My parents hated it too.
They didn’t like a grown man eyeing us kids
and the fact that he was always there each
time every year.
There was only one year he didn’t show up,
but the next year when we talked about how
strange it was and how we were glad we hadn’t
seen him the previous year, all of us got
uncomfortable when we saw him there again.
Still driving the same crappy car, still wearing
the same mask, still eyeing down myself and
my siblings.
My parents were angry and wanted to tell the
police.
True a crime was not being committed, but
the way he had stared at kids is what set
them on edge.
Then the next year, nothing, and the year
after that, there was nothing.
He stopped suddenly.
I have no clue what happened.
I don’t know if he moved, got tired of the
joke, if police had told him to not drive
through the crowds, or whatever.
I only know that every year when I went trick
or treating, I always dreaded to see if he
would be there at the end of the street.
Even when I was finally old enough to go out
with my friends and I would tell them the
story, walking down to the end of my street,
I hoped he wouldn’t be there.
He never was.
Now, this is just mere speculation, but I
hope the reason why he stopped showing up
wasn’t that he had been caught doing something
unspeakable to a child because that would
be horrible.
Knowing that a man that I believed to be dangerous
turned out to be truly dangerous.
What convinces me that something could have
happened, but hopefully did not, a cop car
was always parked at the end of the street
or a little further away every year since
he stopped showing up.
