I was out way too late last night, actually after midnight.
Which is why I haven’t posted the full Halloween story, but never fear, here it is in its entirety.
You guys help me make Halloween so fun!
I thank each and every one of you for helping me write this year’s Halloween story!!!
Be sure to click on the link to each paragraph to find out who wrote that part and to check out some really great blog writing.
And now…
for the Team Fencepost’s 3rd Annual Halloween Story!
Halloween 2010
Back in the woods just outside of a small town in the valley, there was an abandoned cemetery, a final resting place, that lay quiet and dark, most of the time. But all the townsfolk knew that when the nights began to cool and the leaves began to fall it would bring with it strange happenings. Things they couldn’t explain or control. Things like….
Spooky arperitions would rise from the ground like whisps of fog. This is the one time of year they can walk the earth to seek revenge.
Folks who lived near by or even people who had to pass by the cemetary-claimed they heard strange noises-the kind of sounds that make the hair on the back of your neck stand up.
Often the sounds would be so loud that it would be lifted into the air by the streams of feather like wind.
So you see, this cemetery wasn’t really abandoned, it was full of life. It just wasn’t the kind of life you would want to bump into after dark.
But one blustery fall night-when a full moon was shining bright in the night sky-the kids from town decided someone should discover exactly what was going on in the cemetary-and as usual they decided I should be the one to find out.
My friends walked with me to the cemetery, but once inside they padlocked the gate shut and told me that they’d be back for me in the morning. My job was to stay up all night in the cemetery and find out what was happening. So I…
climbed a tree to be out of sight from the ground. Maybe if I was up high in the tree, whatever made those noises wouldn’t notice me. After climbing up into the folage of the tree I came acoss …
an owl with large orange eyes. He told me me keep still. “Don’t let them know you are here, or surley it will be the end of you.”
All I could think of was who are they, why is an owl talking to me-and am I going to die? Just before I fell out of the tree from fear I decided I better do the only thing left to do-ask the owl what was going on.
After all he’s not called the wise ole owl for nothing. He holds all of the secrets of this old cemetery. So I asked and this is what he said.
The owl said, “I see things that you cannot. I’ll tell you what I see when you feel that cold chill.” He began to tell me…
There was one night when I went out on a flight. It was very dark that night even though the night had a full moon. I could feel the whisps of of fog going through my wings. I wondered what would be the effect the fog would have on me. It turned out that…………..
the wisps of fog were the restless spirits of young and old alike, who were only allowed to walk this earth during the darkness, on the night called All Hallows Eve. As the old owl talked chills began to run up my spine, but I listened quietly to his story. I wanted to remember every single word so I could relay it to the townsfolk who were waiting on the other side of that cold, locked gate. Again the wise owl began to talk. “Each year on All Hallows Eve I began to notice the same events unfold. Just as the darkness begins to take over the night, the sounds begin. Moans and groans, and a sound that began to become all too familiar to me as the years went by. It came from the earth itself, a sigh as it released, just for the night, it’s hold on the wisps of restless spirits. From this tree, I quietly watch as the spirits rise from their resting place and begin making their way through the darkness, always to the same common destination….this tree.
Yes, the very tree where I have resided for many years. Let me tell you about this old oak tree. It is very old, but still strong and majestic. When the nights turn cold, the leaves begin to turn brown, some of them fall to the ground, but most of them hold firmly to the tree until late winter. It gives me the perfect home for winter because the leaves shield me from the harsh winter winds and they hide me so that I may watch each year in disbelief as the spirits rise from the cold, damp earth.
I sit quietly as the spirits gather around this tree. They mull around the trunk of the tree, they examine the ground below, they kick around the sticks that lie below and occasionally I feel they are looking at me. And I hear whispers among them. Whispers which I could not understand. That is, until last year at this time when the nights turned cold. As the night wore on, their whispers became sounds and the sounds became words and at last I was able to understand why it is that they come to this old oak tree each All Hallows Eve.
They are restless, all of them, because of one simple question. They are waiting for its answer. They are waiting for a conclusion that only I, the wise ole owl, can give them.
The question that haunted them throughout life and followed their souls beyond the grave, keeping them from finally resting in peace……the question that causes the earth to breath a sigh of relief once a year when the nights turn cold on All Hallows Eve is……”
“How many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop?”
A question the ole owl will never be able to answer. He licks…one, two, three…then the unmistaken sound of a crunch and the stick falls to the ground.
Binding the spirits forever restless. Destined to walk above the ground one time each year as the nights turn cold on All Hallows Eve to seek an answer that will never come.
HAPPY HALLOWEEN, EVERYONE!!
I hope you like the ending to our story!!
Thank you, again, EVERYONE, for participating in our Halloween story!!!
Disclaimer: This story is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the authors’ imagination. Any resemblane to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental!
Twisted Fencepost 