After a tiring business trip, all I wanted was to get home and enjoy Halloween night. But when I walked onto my quiet street, I saw something strange across the street. Let’s just say, Halloween had one final trick waiting for me.
I’ll admit, Halloween is my favorite holiday. Some folks love Christmas or Easter, but for me, Halloween is pure fun. I’m 32, no kids, recently divorced, and my job keeps me busy, so I don’t have much time for hobbies.
But Halloween? That’s my passion. Every year, I go big. Think graveyard scenes, life-sized skeletons, lights, fog machines—the whole deal. I start planning in August, plotting every detail to make my house the spookiest on the block.
And it works. The “Haunted House on Thatcher Street” (that’s my place!) is a bit of a legend around here. Neighbors tell their friends to swing by on Halloween to check it out. I love it—it feels like I’m giving people a chance to feel like kids again, even just for one night.
This year, though, life threw me a curveball. Right before Halloween, my boss hit me with, “You’re flying to Boston tomorrow.” A last-minute business trip. “Seriously?!” I nearly yelled. Halloween was just a week away.
But there was no way out. So I took one last look at my front yard masterpiece—a giant spiderweb, spooky inflatables, and lights set up for a haunted graveyard scene. Then I left. The plan was to be back November 1, so I figured the neighbors could still enjoy the setup.
But luck was on my side. A schedule change got me home early, right on Halloween afternoon. I was thrilled, imagining handing out candy to kids in their costumes.
When I got home, though, something was wrong. My yard was empty. Completely bare.
Then I looked across the street and saw it: my skeletons, my tombstones, my inflatable pumpkin. Right in the middle of my neighbor’s yard was my 8-foot spider, staring back at me.
I took a deep breath, clenched my fists, and told myself to stay calm. It was Halloween night, kids were running around, and I didn’t want to make a scene. But the nerve… all my decorations, right there on her lawn.
As the sun set, the glow of my lights flickered from her yard, casting shadows over her house. It felt like I was in some weird, twisted version of reality.
I kept peeking out my window, watching kids run up to her door, parents praising her spooky setup. I gritted my teeth, picturing myself storming over to give her a piece of my mind. But no. I had to be smarter.
By midnight, the street quieted down. Halloween was winding down; decorations dimmed, porch lights went off, and parents took their kids home.
Her house went dark too, and I saw her last visitors leave, chatting and waving as they walked away.
This was my moment.
I couldn’t sleep knowing my decorations were across the street. So I grabbed my keys, threw on a jacket, and headed to the 24-hour convenience store.
Inside, under the buzzing lights, I scanned the paint aisle until I found what I needed: bright red spray paint for a bold statement and glossy black for flair. I grabbed a few cans of each, paid the bored cashier, and headed back.
The street was quiet, almost spooky, with a chilly breeze rustling the trees and a few jack-o’-lanterns still glowing faintly. I checked to make sure no one was around, then crept across to her yard.
My heart raced as I reached her white fence. The spray can felt alive in my hand. I took a deep breath, glanced around one last time, and shook the can.
With a quick press, the nozzle hissed, spraying red paint. I worked carefully, watching the letters form, each one bold and loud on her perfect white fence:
“I TOOK MY NEIGHBOR’S HALLOWEEN DECORATIONS TO WIN THE BEST HOUSE PRIZE!”
I grinned, feeling a rush of satisfaction. It was as bold as her stunt, and every letter let out a bit of my frustration in bright red paint.
I added some dripping lines for drama, making the words look like they were bleeding down the fence.
I stayed alert, listening for any sign of trouble. As I finished the last exclamation point, the paint’s hiss faded, leaving only the wind and my pounding heart.
But then, a light flicked on in her house.
My stomach dropped. I ducked, clutching the paint can, watching her shadow appear in the window. I held my breath, but she didn’t look outside.
She shuffled to the kitchen, then vanished. I exhaled shakily. I’d been seconds from getting caught.
I crept back around her yard, gripping my spray paint bag. I couldn’t resist one last look at my work before heading home. Her fence looked wild, and the best part? She’d have to face it.
The next morning, I sipped my coffee by the window, savoring the sight of justice. The red message still blazed across her white fence. She hadn’t even tried to cover it. With the paint I used, it wouldn’t come off easily.
As I enjoyed the view, a group of judges from the neighborhood council strolled down the street, clipboards in hand, checking out the Halloween decorations.
I felt a twinge of nerves—would they find my stunt funny or think I’d gone too far? But one look at her bare yard, with no effort of her own, and I knew I’d made my point.
The judges stopped at her house, staring wide-eyed at the red letters, whispering to each other. One of them snorted, barely hiding a laugh. My neighbor, Linda, watched from her window, her face pale as she saw them reading. She shot me a horrified look, but I just raised my mug with a sweet smile.
It didn’t take long for the group to move to my place. I heard one mumble, “She really took them?” to another, who chuckled and nodded as they looked at my bare yard.
Mrs. Delaney, a kind judge, walked over to me. “Your Halloween spirit is something else. Linda’s decorations were great—until we found out they were yours!” She chuckled, her eyes twinkling.
I grinned, playing innocent. “Well, Halloween’s my thing. I go all out every year. Just wanted to give the neighborhood something spooky and fun.”
Mrs. Delaney’s smile widened. “You’ve definitely given us something to remember, dear. I think you’ve earned Best Decorated House this year.” She winked. “Linda’s fence… added a nice touch, didn’t it?”
I nodded, holding back a laugh. “You could say it was a team effort.”
Just then, Linda stormed out, red-faced and furious. “This is ridiculous!” she yelled, pointing at me. “She ruined my fence!”
One judge raised an eyebrow. “So, did you take her decorations?”
Linda opened her mouth, then closed it. After a moment, she muttered, “I thought she wouldn’t care,” barely loud enough to hear.
“Well, it seems you’ve learned a lesson about asking first,” Mrs. Delaney said firmly. “We’re giving the prize to the rightful owner of those decorations.” She nodded at me approvingly.
Linda stomped her foot, glaring at me as the judges moved on. I just shrugged, hiding a smile. “Happy Halloween, Linda.”
And with that, I turned back to my house, enjoying every sweet moment.
