“Trick or Treat!” Those are three words I have never said. And if I was living anywhere else in the world, it would be a different story. But as someone who grew up in America, it’s dumbfounding. And dumbfounded is exactly how kids used to look at me when I would tell them that I don’t — and have never — celebrated Halloween. My parents are among the few in the West who view Halloween as an ‘unpleasant’ holiday. This being that they come from countries where the existence of this holiday wasn’t even known, and their religious beliefs contradict the holiday. I can’t lie, as a child, I did wish I could dress up like my favorite TV show character and run around the neighborhood with an orange pumpkin basket, collecting candy. So when I got to college, I decided to try my hand at the festivities and see what it was all about. Gone were the days where I had to stay home from school on Halloween Spirit Day. This is college; you have the freedom to do anything — good or bad. So I dressed up as a fairy in honor of one of my favorite childhood shows growing up, “Winx Club,” and took to the streets with the rest of my friends in search of a party. Honestly, it was a great night. The temperature fluctuated around 70 degrees, the full moon was out to light our path and everyone was in high spirits. I could no longer see the holiday as my parents did. As a matter of fact, I couldn’t believe that this was what I had been missing out on all my life.
As we were winding down the night and heading home, I noticed a black cat following us. To this day, I still don’t know what drew my attention to it, but I decided to trail from the group and approach it. To my surprise, instead of running away the cat remained still, its haunting eyes glowing green in the shadow of the moonlight, watching me creep my hand out to pet it. But as soon as my fingers grazed the black fur, the cat stood on its two back legs and drew out a single word, ‘come.’ I jumped back, my heart plummeted into the pit of my stomach, and a frigid chill raced down my spine. The piercing scream that escaped my lips continues to haunt me even now. It was reminiscent of a bone-chilling horror tale, the ones that have you screaming right alongside the characters. My friends, who were still a few feet away from me looking for directions, called out my name. I turned around to face them, but I noticed they were looking at something behind me with weary eyes. Instinctively, I stopped and looked back, thinking the cat had done something again.
But the cat was gone; they were looking at a man standing on the sidewalk, about 10 feet away from me. He was in all black, hands stuffed in his pocket, and a hoodie covering his head. We couldn’t make out his face, but his presence was more than eerie enough for us to smell the danger. I took off running to my friends. Panic dripping from my body like sweat, I explained to them everything that had happened. Like I expected, they didn’t buy my story, and when we turned back to look for the man, he too had disappeared. There is no way I had heard wrong. In fact, the way the word had been pronunciated sounded so human-like — no, it was human. I mean, I’ve heard plenty of stories of shapeshifting animals, but all of those stories took place in Africa, the Middle East or the Caribbean — not here! And honestly, I was never one for the dramatics of superstitions, so I never cared much about those stories. But when it happens in front of your eyes, there is no way to deny it. I know what I heard, and I know what I saw.
Between me still freaking out, a random chill entering the night and some of us being tired, we decided to call it a night. We piled into the back of a cold Uber, and I mostly zoned out while the rest debated whether Halloween or Christmas was the best holiday. “What about you?” I heard the driver ask as my friend nudged me. I blinked back into reality and said, “Oh, um, I guess Christmas, but this is my first time going out for Halloween, so I may be biased since I don’t really have much experience.” He chuckled, “Ya? Well, I’m glad you came.” Something about the way he said that word ‘came,’ drew me back instantly. I glanced up at the rearview mirror, and my heart stopped when I met glowing green eyes looking back at me.
Perpetual Kahindo is a third-year Political Science major. PK973548@wcupa.edu