Writing Prompt

“Have you ever heard the story of the Blind Watcher?” Sally asks me with a playful yet menacing tone while we get our backpacks out of our lockers. “The Blind Watcher?” I reply confused but willing to play along with her little Halloween story. Sally smirks but tries to quickly hide it with a facade of seriousness. “Yes, you know they say he comes out the week before Halloween to pick his next list of victims. He stalks them in the shadows, or broad daylight. It doesn’t matter for only his chosen few will ever actually see him. Some say he’s a ghost, some say a demon, but what everyone that’s seen him agrees exactly how he looks. A tall figure, greyish blue in color. Almost as if he is a corpse risen from the morgue. His nose isn’t there, simply the hole of where it once sat. His eyes clouded over and grey, dead. He stands with a hunch and is a tall slender build. His toothy grin hidden by a wool scarf, his sunken features still clearly visible even with a heavy pitch dark overcoat, accented with an electric blue flower on the lapel. He’s said to stand outside his victim’s home in the pouring rain huddled under a large black umbrella, hands playfully clutching it as his blind, dead eyes stare towards the home.” I cut her off, “And how is a blind stalker supposed to be dangerous exactly?!” She does her best to hide her growing grin, clearly pleased that her story is getting under my skin. “Well he is a harbinger of death, his gaze causes untold amounts of rotten luck and accidents to start happening to the victims. Progressivly getting worse and more dangerous or painful. He causes horrible nightmares and hallucinations even. Until that unfortunate soul inevitably takes their own life.” I feel my skin shiver as goosebumps creep over my arms,”as if Sally! You’re just trying to scare me back after that Halloween prank I totally got you with last year!” I defensively spit out. “Just watch your back next week, he’ll be out there as Halloween approaches and his next lucky victim may just be…..YOU!” She yells that last word making me jump and fall back. “You jerk, I almost fell!” I say catching my balance. She finally loses all composure and busts up laughing, “God! You shoulda seen the look on your face!” She points and continues laughing. “You were about ready to piss yourself!” She continues. ‘Was not! I was just acting so you’d be all proud of your lame story!“ “Whatever you say you brave boy you” she teases. We finish getting our things together and start our walk home from school, stepping outside into the cool autumn air, leaves all shades of orange, red, brown and yellow. As we start our journey home down residential streets all decorated for Halloween Sally continues jabbing me with “Ooh I think I just saw him!” Or “What was that?!” And I can only playfully laugh at her, but for some reason I can’t shake the feeling we are actually being watched. The overcast sky slowly starts to darken with what could only be incoming rain and before we know it we are running the rest of the way home using our backpacks as shields from the rain. Laughing we run under the front patio roof of her home, “see you tomorrow!” She yells as I start walking down her driveway “Unless the blind watcher gets ya!”. Ignoring her joke I shout back “see you tomorrow!”. I start walking home from Sally’s, its only about five minutes away. Her and I have been best friends our entire lives, our parents were always good friends and we were practically raised together. As I head down the street, trying to use the trees as cover I notice a dark figure in the corner of my eye. As I turn to look across the street where I could have sworn I saw it, I’m greeted only to heavy rain on an empty sidewalk.

It was a rainy night and a young woman was sitting at the bus stop til she saw a unfamiliar man standing and staring at her. She got a eerie feeling and her blood became cold . The man was tall , had a face that was almost too pale like a ghost and dressed in black. She wanted to leave but it was like he had her paralyzed with fear . Will she escape ?

I sit in the park, alone. There is not a person in sight. The night’s rain pours onto my head. My pale hands reach up and they touch my neck, feeling the bruises forming.

I feel empty.

I look up at the dull, somber sky. I watch as a raindrop makes its way towards my face.

But it never hits me.

My sight of the sky is blocked by an umbrella being held above my head.

I look back down. A large man stands in front of me.

His eyes are vacant, yet they have more life in them than mine have ever had.

He is different to anybody that I have ever met.

But so am I.

One of his green, calloused hands reach towards me. The other remains holding the umbrella above my head.

He smiles down at me. A soft, kind smile. A small butterfly lands on his hand, before it flies to the floor and disintegrates into the grass. A pink flower appears in his place and it soon begins to multiply, until flowers cover the whole of the park.

I smile.

The rain begins to soften and calm; it feels welcoming.

I take the man’s hand, allowing him to pull me into a standing position.

He begins to walk me into the darkness.

For the first time, I feel peace.

I see things On the rainy nights On those terrible nights Filled with frights

Honestly, I think something’s wrong with me

Who else would see The man outside And who else would feel The watching of his eyes

I will go walking, and I see him beside me, walking with an umbrella in his hands and a butterfly on his pale fingers.

He would ask me if I was cold Did I need assistance? Did I want to share the umbrella he held? He would always smile at my resistance.

With his white eyes, and his black trench coat; his neckless body and his pale, grainy skin. He called chills up my spine, but a butterfly sat upon him.

That butterfly It saw no threat Nothing at all Maybe that’s why let him help

We were so close, but the air around us was warm. We said nothing at all, the only sound the pattering of rain above our heads. The butterfly moved from the man to my shoulder and seemed content there.

I smiled The man beside me smiled as well He was always smiling I suppose that’s why I stayed

Why I’m still here, smiling. He isn’t scary, no he’s rather nice, and he’ll wait for you when you’re in a fright. He’ll offer you help and give you double; but then you’ll be in trouble.

I’m still here, here in this world. Stuck smiling in a room filled with others. My butterfly is frozen upon me, such as I. But I’m happy forever, I suppose.

Happy with all the others.

Bitter cold winds disperse my sins like seeds in a hurricane.

Flailing strays portray a glimpse of a life I wish I never made.

A little friend enters the fray unfolding fractals then betrayed their sense of trust.

While endless motion pulls us farther from the truths that we made up.

As the thunder boomed high in the sky, the rain thundered down onto the creeky porch. I was staring out into the rain from inside. We were staying in my cousins house when he was gone, we were housesitting. Usually events like this were uncommon, specially for Jorge. We just had to feed the dogs and gecko. That was it. But of course, live was not that easy. On one afternoon, I woke up from my bed to see the name Barthalamu, Barthalamu, Barthalamu. It was written all over the walls or in a better way of putting it, clawed. And yet my cousin never mentioned him. When I go to take a picture of it the words weren’t on the camera and nor were they on the wall anymore. “Ding Dong” goes the door bell I was the one who opened the door to see a tall, dark pale grandma arching over me. “Can I help you?” I ask her Before she can respond I hear “John, who are you talking to?” From my mother behind me, standing in the hallway behind the door. I look back at mother, then at the grandma, how can mother not see her? In that moment two things were in my mind, one was why can’t mother see her and two, was were was this old lady’s shadow?

Every Halloween I go out in the rain. Not at the same place, mind you, but wherever it’s raining. I wear a suit because it’s the only thing in my closet. This is the only night I go outside. It’s part of the curse given to me. I’m not a monster, but this is how others perceive me.

These days, a debate has been on going over the time wether the halloween day is religious day for many nations or it just a day that people celebrate and have fun together. In this essay I well discuss the two views and personally I tend to the first view.

Many people believe that people who don’t believe in paganism he should not celebrate that day because it is not part of your religion and your culture as well, as long as Halloween had bad history which the Ancient pagan they killed innocent people for offering to their Gods !

Others believe that Halloween is a time to gather people for fun and for changing moods to be out fo normal day which people wearing strange clothes and mask, however it’s help the economy because people buying clothes and paying entertainment tickets.

In the light of the above, some people think Halloween day has bad history and it’s part of pegan religious, while others claim it is a celebration day that support the countris economy.

He hides, under the shelter of an U m b r e l l a Out of the rain.

He lurkes, in every child’s I m a g i n a t i o n Waiting to inflict pain.

He stares, ever observing the phenomenon O f l i f e Which is exploited in surplus.

He fears, that he will be resigned to N i g h t m a r e s Because that is his purpose.

Under the alien moon Sits the manachida unknown He is coming over soon And you will come to know a frown

Watch out for when he does As there are few who return home When this manachida goon Recites to you his prose

Hark! Be on constant vigil Or else you will come to see Just why people squirm and wiggle When they see a figure from the sea