I rolled around in my bed, but visions of him wouldn't go away. My door creaked open, and I screamed, but the comforting voice of “Oliver, it's ok, you're safe here” calmed me back down. 

It had been five years since I saw him, but he lived and controlled my head every day. As the year grew closer and closer to the day when the moon was full, and the trick-or-treaters were happiest, his presence became more and more apparent. It felt like he was with me the whole day, staring, whispering, stalking. 

I shuddered and pulled the covers up, trapping myself inside my safe haven. He had never shown up on my bed, and it was the one place I knew I could lie where he hadn't been seen. My mom sat in the chair next to me, gently rubbing my back until I drifted into a state of peace. 

My morning routine the next day was not any different. I am not a man of superstition, but I made sure to secure an extra muffin on the way out the door. 

As I got in the car, my mother gave me a plan for the day, “After school, I will pick you up and….” I quickly lost focus and couldn’t take my eyes off of him. He stood at the stop sign, staring at the people walking on the sidewalk, his long cut-up robes fluttering in the wind. He didn’t always stare at me, sometimes giving me a kind smile, which made me hope he was once a good man. 

I finally arrived at school, and Billy dapped me up at the door: “Bro, why you just standing there? Let's head to 9/10.” We talked about Connor Bedard’s first few games in the NHL as we entered the class, and my voice faded away when I saw the board. His black robes trailed behind him as he went out the door, and it felt like the room had dropped ten degrees. 

“The day is finally here” was written out all across the chalkboard. I gulped, feeling terrified, before my teacher, with her white dress dotted with pumpkins, entered the room. She was cheerful, exclaiming, “The day is finally here. For CANDY!” I was instantly relieved, and my mind was focused on school for the rest of the day. 

After school, Billy invited me over for dinner. Although I was hesitant, I obliged because I needed to take my mind off of him. As we played Xbox, the man stayed close, pacing up and down Billy’s lawn. I could just feel him. The sun was setting and I knew I needed to head home soon. Billy’s mom offered to drive me home, and before I knew it, we were on the way. I felt comfortable and relieved that she was driving me home, instead of just walking. I tried not to look out the window because I was sure he would be there. 

She took a different way than I would have, claiming that “the normal street was closed because of trick-or-treaters.” The road had a familiar look and feel, one that gave me goosebumps. I shut my eyes, hoping the dark would give me safety. Then, Billy’s mom yelled, “Deer!” and swerved, hitting a tree. 

She was badly hurt, blood pouring down her head. For a moment, because ofthe adrenaline, I forgot about him. I stumbled out of the car, gasping for air, attempting to scream for help. My vision darted, and then it hit me: the house where it happened five years ago was standing directly in front of me. Contrary to my dark idea of the house, I saw a nice family there now, about to leave to trick-or-treat, and was hopeful that what happened long ago wouldn’t return. 

As I opened the door, the house transformed, and the man in the black robe slammed the door behind me. He led me to a couch and turned on the TV, but I had no control. It was my mom and dad, tied up. Five years ago, the man looked different. He was happy with a wife and child, and I was the reason he looked like he did now. I was trick-or-treating with his daughter and wife when I tripped into the little girl in front of me and she fell into the street. Her mom rushed to help her and I felt sorry for the accident. Suddenly, my stomach dropped: a bus hit them. Since then, I have always felt guilty for their deaths. The girl’s dad soon after moved away, never to be heard of again. Until now. I snapped back into the present and the man said, “I have waited long enough to get my revenge…”