Born On Halloween Novelas e Histórias

As witches, it's the one time of the year where we come together to celebrate our heritage and magic, and gives us the opportunity to truly feel at one with the gifts bestowed upon us. Of course, the day of Halloween had already begun as soon as the clock had struck midnight the night before, but we witches didn't start celebrating until the sun finally crept below the horizon and the moon crested in the sky. That was when Samhain truly began. Eva had finally gotten me out of bed and stable enough to attend classes over the last few days, but I barely paid any attention at all. It had been hard to want to focus when all I could do was stare out the window and wonder if when I went home, I'd

I walk into my room to get dressed. And stop breathing. A single red balloon floats near the ceiling, bobbing gently like it’s alive. A thin string dangles down, and tied to it is an envelope with my name written across the front. My heart slams so hard it hurts. “Fuck.” Terror grips me by the throat, cold and instant, and between one heartbeat and the next, I’m transported to another place and another time. I was almost eight. Halloween night. The carnival smelled like sugar and popcorn and damp hay.

My mother killed herself right after I was born. Some deep and dark buried in her past, and I created a time machine to save her. I went to the day that ruined her life, and watched it happen again. Let me start at the beginning. I never knew my mother. She died when I was zero hours old—postpartum hemorrhage, the death certificate said. But I always knew that was a lie. A hemorrhage doesn't make you swallow a bottle of pills. A hemorrhage doesn't make you write a farewell note stained with tears. I found that note when I was fifteen, hidden in the lining of an old coat. It said three words: I couldn't forget.

It’s October and Halloween is around the corner. It’s always been my favorite because it’s surrounded by everything I enjoy. Shane I used to love trick or treating. I’m lucky my parents even let me trick or treat, but I don’t think they could deny me something so basic, especially because other catholic parents let their kids do it. Shane and I also love horror, which is why Gail has made our wedding party a very fancy Halloween themed. I can’t believe they are having the party on Halloween. It’s going to be so much fun.

Okay now I think there is a surprise, today is not my birthday right? "Clarissa, are you there?" "Sure.. oh sure I am." I said huskily. "What's happening?" I find myself asking. "Well I am happy." His voice sounds and I almost ask why, I did ask anyway. But a message pops into my phone and it reads, "Happy Halloween Clarissa." "Oh, it's Halloween." I mumble and I could see him smile. "I just wanted to be the first person to tell you that." He smoothen.

Halloween!? Halloween is on the last day of October! I got here on my birthday which is March 3rd. ~so I've spent eight months here!? Gabby notices the look on my face. "What's wrong sis? " she questions "It's been 8 months. " I manage to mutter "It's been three years," she replies placing her hand on my shoulder and I get her point. The preparation for Halloween here actually beat my expectations. We were made to make lists of what we want, what we want to give, who we want to dress up as or what we need to make our costumes and so much more.

she bowed her head and offered Electra a carved turnip. “Thank you,” Electra said, accepting the gift. The woman bowed slightly and then scurried away. “Turnip carving predates the pumpkin. The pumpkin is more of an American thing.” “I did not know that. I just thought we did turnips because we were werewolves,” he admitted as a woman gave them each a soul cake. “Just another part of our pagan heritage.” “Wiccan,” Electra said softly. “Halloween is based on the Wiccan holiday Samhain. Our lineage predates that branch of religion.”

“Biggest festival in the county. You’ll be here just in time.” My birthday is on Halloween. Eighteen this year. A cliché, I know. The car slows in front of a white farmhouse with a wraparound porch and a yard full of marigolds. Warm light spills from the windows. A dog barks somewhere inside. My new home. My new family.

Mr Juan calls his car baby instead of her daughter. Her daughter Kate happens to be someone that easily empathize. She feels empathy for me and called me very early around 6a.m. She initially talked about my feelings and later asked if I would follow her Uncle's birthday and stay there for Halloween party. She included several places near her Uncle's house where we could get Halloween costumes.

After all, this Halloween was her first night out. It was a tradition among us to take the new recruits out on Halloween night once they had been properly prepared and proven themselves capable of not making a scene or putting themselves in danger. It is often a night of fond memories for us. Every childhood birthday wrapped into one orange and black night. Sweet memories full of falling leaves and ominous fields of corn, paper decorations and costume parties. Every year on October 31st, the world becomes an endless macabre fairy-land, seemingly just for our young. Halloween was always a special night for us.