The Closet

The Closet

I was in a closet. How did I get here? It wasn’t my closet, a soft light luminated the insides, and I could see the contents, plus, I was on the floor.

I closed my eyes, my head was swimming. Reaching up, I could feel a painful lump on the side. Quickly pulling my hand away, it was bloody. I must have been unconscious, tossed into this closet. I froze in instant panic.

Think! I finally screamed inside my aching head. How did I get here? Where was I last?

I was Trick or Treating with my friends. It was getting late and we were in an old neighborhood we’d never been to before. Gary wanted to quit, but Lela talked us all into one more house, the big one at the end of the cul-de-sac.

There was a dim light on the porch, though it was debatable whether the porch was decorated for Halloween, or it always looked like that. Still, up we went and rang the bell. The man who came to the door was dressed like a butler. He smiled and acted as if everything was fine. “Trick or Treat!” he’d said, “Step right in!” We could see the hallway, and a table with a bowl of candy, from where we stood. It all seemed fine. Walking over the threshold was the last thing I remembered.

I looked around. Gary and Lela were not here, but their Trick or Treat bags were, and Gary’s had a large red stain down the side.

Suddenly I heard voices from the hall. “Lovely dinner Gilbert,” a deep older sounding voice said.

“Thank you,” a younger voice answered, “and we have one left for tomorrow. Happy Halloween Sir!”

As I slowly lost consciousness, I truly hoped this was only a nightmare.