The Halloween Fee

The kindergarten had organized a Halloween trip to an amusement park, and the children were thrilled.

As their preschool teacher, I was in charge of the senior class, and several of them were eager to try the haunted house.

I wanted to refuse, afraid they would be frightened, but one of the bolder children rushed inside first.

The rest immediately followed, and I had no choice but to go after them.

When we later passed a small dark room, the door suddenly slammed shut.

No matter how we pushed, it wouldn’t open.

The children looked to me for help, and my heart tightened at my own helplessness.

This haunted house had been designed especially for kids; in theory, they should have been able to open it easily.

I made a quick decision and crouched down to calm them.

“Everyone, this door only opens when you shout the correct password. Now, let’s see whose eyes are the sharpest and who can find the password first!”

The moment I finished speaking, the children eagerly scattered around the room to search.

I quietly walked to the door we had just come through and pushed it hard, not expecting much.

As I feared, the haunted house allowed only forward movement—any door behind us stayed locked.

I suppressed the panic rising in my chest and reached into my pocket to call for help.

My fingers touched nothing. The hollow feeling in my stomach dropped even lower.

We had been required to leave all phones, bags, and personal items in the lockers before entering.

I looked around helplessly.

A sealed room. Dim light. Young children.

How was I supposed to call for help?

The energetic kids soon searched the entire place but found nothing.

Before long, they turned to me again.

“Miss Cambria, there’s no password written anywhere!”

“I think I know! Is it ‘Open Sesame’?”

“Haha, it can’t be that easy. But I know the password—my mom said it once when she was watching TV.”

“Wow, really? What is it?”

The lively Tommy Spark lifted his chin proudly, grinning as he announced, “Of course I know! The password is: Sweet potato, sweet potato, I’m a potato!”

The door didn’t move at all.

The children laughed at Tommy for making up a fake password, and his face flushed red with anger.

Several kids glanced around nervously, their little hands gripping each other tightly.

In the darkness, someone whispered in fear:

“Miss Cambria… are we ever getting out?”

At her words, the children grew even more frightened.

I was about to speak when the class monitor, Levi Lennon, tapped his wrist twice, and a moment later, a small light flickered on.

“Don’t be scared. It’s not dark now.”

Joy surged through me.

I hadn’t expected the phone watch on his wrist to still be there.

I immediately borrowed it and called the number posted on the wall.

The phone rang for a long time.

Just as I was about to give up, someone finally picked up.

“Hello? Who is this?”

An impatient woman’s voice came through the receiver, and I quickly answered, “Hello, are you a staff member from Little Tots Amusement Park?

“We’re trapped inside the haunted house—the door won’t open.”