Cheerful Halloween (m/f)
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Cheerful Halloween (m/f)
Like a fireman checking a door for heat, the Ghostbuster gingerly laid his ear against the door. It felt like it may explode at any moment. Although he knew what waited on the other side, the tension refused to abate.
He lifted his fist and knocked three times. Always three times. Not for any superstitious reason, but because Gene Kelly knocked three times on each door in Singing in the Rain before proclaiming: ‘Gotta Dance!’ Stewart had no idea why it’d inspired him as it had, but it did.
“GO AWAY!” a voice boomed.
Under different circumstances, he might’ve been frightened, but it was Halloween, the most significant day of the year he and Josie were split on. He loved the spookiness, dressing up, and pretending to be someone else.
Josie, however, couldn’t understand any of it. She was, after all, just Josie. She didn’t overly enjoy being herself but saw no reason to pretend to be anyone else. And putting on a stupid costume didn’t change anything.
Granted, the fact that Stewart got to pick his costume was also a significant factor. This year he’d chosen to be a Ghostbuster and had even promised to take his sister out trick or treating instead of going out with his friends. Their parents believed it an altruistic move, but she knew it was because they’d found another fourth member and refused to have five ghostbusters.
Josie would’ve preferred if he’d gone out with them. She could’ve convinced their parents she’d be fine on her own and just snuck out and hid until it was time to come home. But she knew Stewart would drag her around the neighborhood, his last taste of trick or treating until he found a nice girl and settled down.
She wondered if he’d have kids for any other reason. She doubted he’d miss her constantly bugging him once he finally escaped. And then she’d be all alone.
Knock, knock, knock
“I told you—“
“The sooner we start, the sooner Mom and Dad will head to church, and the sooner we can come home.
“I thought they left already.”
“They’re waiting. You know they are.”
“Grrrrrrrr. How come you get to be a Ghostbuster? We could’ve been Ghostbusters together.”
“I didn’t pick your costume.”
“I know.”
“Really? I honestly didn’t think you’d believe me.”
“If you’d picked this, I’d never talk to you again.”
“All right, fine. I totally picked that. No more bugging me.”
“Grrrrrrrrrrr.”
“Hey, I at least tried to hint at the green one.”
“How about hinting at anything else?”
“I mean, I said: ‘She’s not going to wear that.’ And they just said: ‘Of course, she will; it’s perfect for a girl like her and all the boys—‘“
“GRRRRRRRRRRR!”
“And I said: ‘She’ll want the green one.’”
“That’s hinting?”
“I mean, they’re not as oblivious as you, but they’re still pretty bad.”
CLICK
The door unlocked, and Stewart stepped back before it swung open. Josie stood before him wearing a pink cheerleader outfit—complete with pom-poms—flesh-colored tights, frilly pink socks, and her saddle shoes. Their mother had pulled her hair into tight pigtails that seemed to stretch her ears upward. He thought she looked utterly ridiculous, and her frown, which threatened to reach her chin, told him she knew.
“Cute as ever,” he said, trying to smile without allowing it to turn into a snicker, which would, in turn, become gales of laughter.
“I hate you,” she replied.
“What’d I do?”
She let her eyes run along his Ghostbuster costume. It wasn’t anywhere near film accurate—the jumpsuit was tan instead of khaki, it had a sewn-in web belt, his proton pack was inflatable, and he wore red chucks instead of combat boots—but he’d picked it.
He’d been allowed to go to the store, pick his costume, and wear what he liked. Even from a movie, their parents had decried ‘ridiculous at best.’ They didn’t believe in ghosts and, for some reason, were convinced that when you died, you became an angel if you were worthy of passing through the pearly gates.
Josie had no idea why anyone would wish to become a monstrous servant made of wings, eyeballs, and flames. Also, there was the fact that there was absolutely no mention or indication of that occurring in the Bible.
But he’d been allowed to wear it. While she was stuck wearing a stupid pink cheerleader costume to appeal to boys.
There weren’t even cheerleaders at her school. Sports were strictly forbidden. Rabid fanbases were viewed similarly to those at Sodom and Gomorrah. But boys always enjoyed looking at cheerleaders, and they wanted the boys to notice her.
“I’ve got a movie to show you.”
“Can we just stay here and watch it tonight?”
“It’s Halloween.”
“Yeah? Or are you saying it’s the movie Halloween?”
“No. Different one. But what makes you think it’s not a horror movie?”
Josie sighed, looked down at her ridiculous costume, and fluffed the skirt. Her fists clenched it tightly and slightly pounded against her thighs. When she looked up, her eyes were wet and pained.
“Because you know I hate them!” she screamed. “You know I hate all of this! This stupid outfit and this stupid night! Why do I have to be a cheerleader? Cheerleaders are icky and blonde and listen to Britney Spears and rap music.
“You are always getting into trouble. Your grades aren’t much better than mine. You steal! You break all those stupid commandments they’re always going on about! But you’re a boy, and you’re into girls, so none of that matters!”
Hot tears streamed down her cheeks as she continued to scream. She knew better than to say any of this to her parents. They wouldn’t suddenly change their minds on the subject. They’d likely send her away from Stewart and their grandfather to some institution or coven. They were the only two who even attempted to understand or accept her.
Stewart stood before her, his hands in his pockets, staring down and allowing her to vent. He’d become so used to being screamed at by their parents that her sudden explosion barely phased him. His brain had likely ventured off to Halloweentown or somewhere, although his eyes hadn’t gained their usual glassy expression. They remained fixed on her.
Josie wanted to slam her fists into him, anything to get him to respond. She raised them, but instead of pounding, she hurtled them around his waist, burying her face into his soft costume, suddenly thankful for the lack of screen accuracy. They both usually hated hugs, but at that moment, they held each other so tight that nothing could tear them apart.
“It’s not a horror movie,” Stewart said finally.
“Huh?”
“The movie,” he said, his voice little more than a mumble. “It’s not a horror movie. But it’s also nothing we want to watch with Mom and Dad. Might give them ideas.”
Josie giggled and pulled away from her brother, groaning and wiping her eyes. She hated when they got sappy, and she supposed going trick or treating with him was a fitting ‘punishment’ for flipping out on him. She always joked that Stewart was like a Sour Patch Kid. First, he was sour, and then he was sweet.
“Now you’ve got me worried,” she said.
“But I’m a Cheerleader.”
“That’s my line right now. Unless you want to switch costumes?”
“If it wasn’t for my recent growth spurt, I would. Luckily, I had the foresight to get the baggier costume just in case.”
“Not because it was more in style?”
“Of course not. But not all of us can dress as timeless as you.”
“Awwww. At least you like my outfits.”
“I was talking about your school uniform.”
“Grrrrrrr.”
“Okay, and the outfits.”
“I really don’t care.”
“You say that, and yet you obviously do.”
“What’s the stupid movie? Let’s just get this night over with.”
“But I’m a Cheerleader. That wasn’t a joke. It was the movie title.”
“Wow. And here I thought maybe you were being sweet.”
“Just wait till we watch it. I know my sister.”
“And I know my brother,” she said, her frown creeping ever so slightly up towards a smirk.
“Are you wearing lipstick?” Stewart asked, noticing her lips were a lighter shade of pink than usual.
“Mom put it on me. She found a shade that matched the uniform and said: ‘Boys like girls who wear makeup.’”
“We do?”
“Normal ones.”
“Ouch. And I just don’t put that much thought into it. If a woman can stand having me around for more than five minutes, I’m honestly not sure I’d care what she looked like.”
“Even I don’t like having you around that long.”
“You don’t get a choice.”
“True.”
“That’s what the ropes are for. “
“Seriously?”
Stewart shrugged. “Let’s get some candy. Maybe you won’t be a holy terror, and we can just come home and relax.”
“I hate Halloween,” Josie said, heading for the door. “It’s so stupid and—“
They ventured out into the night together.
***
“Can we go home now?” Josie asked, wandering back to her brother after the first house, somehow sulking worse than when she’d headed up.
“Did you get some candy or just a rock?”
Josie dug into her bag and pulled out a single piece of loser candy. “She told me cheerleaders are supposed to smile.”
“I’ve seen some cheerleaders with some serious resting bitch face.”
“Do I have that?”
“You?” Stewart chuckled as they ventured down the sidewalk towards the next house. “You barely have a resting face.”
“Grrrrrrr. I don’t even like candy.”
“Sweet. I’ll eat it all,” he said, instinctively ducking beneath a plastic skeleton strung from a tree.
Josie paused briefly and looked up at the decoration hanging a few feet above them. “Are you scared?”
“Of course not.”
“Hehe. You ducked like you were.”
“I just didn’t want to bump my head.”
“Why didn’t you use your proton pack?”
“Okay, first,” he pointed at the skeleton, “that’s a skeleton, not a ghost. And second,” he pulled the inflatable neutrona wand from behind his back, “I didn’t charge this thing before we left.”
“Isn’t there just a nuclear reactor in your proton pack?”
“Um…is there? Egon just told me to put it on, and then he turned it on.”
“I’m pretty sure. Why don’t you try it?”
Stewart looked down at his sister and saw she’d begun to smirk. They both knew it was an inflatable piece of plastic, but each wanted to know who’d crack first. After her meltdown earlier, he decided he’d do whatever it took to make her smirk. He let out a sigh, aimed the neutrona wand toward the skeleton, took a deep breath and
“Bzzzzzzzzzaaaaaahhhhhh!”
The only thing Stewart was worse at than voice impersonations was sound effects. His proton pack did not disappoint, and she giggled gleefully as parents hustled their children past.
“Okay, that’s enough,” he said, lowering the wand and giving her a playful shove. “Ghost’s dead.”
“Of course it is. And you didn’t trap it.”
“The costume didn’t come with one.”
“Lame. But I guess since you don’t have a trap, we might as well go home.”
“More candy!”
“Why don’t you get the candy then? You’ve got a costume.”
“You know what’ll happen if I go up there? I’ll say, ‘Trick or Treat.’ They’ll look at me all weird. Say, “Aren’t you a little old for Trick or Treating?’ And I’ll say, ‘Yeah, but my sister there….’ And you’ll be peeking out from around the corner. ‘…is shy and asked me to trick or treat on her behalf.’ And then they’ll slam the door in my face.”
“That’s…oddly specific.”
Stewart shrugged. “I’m a writer. We get specific.”
“You only got specific because I made you.”
“Yeah, well.”
“What about this house?” Josie said, motioning to one covered in graves, jack-o-lanterns, and a stone well with a rotting arm reaching up to crawl free.
“This house?” Stewart asked, obviously surprised. She wouldn’t knock on the most pleasant-looking white picket-fenced house without him forcing her. Something was awry.
“Yeah,” she nodded.
He glanced towards the house—a robed figure sat rocking in a chair on the front porch—and back to his smirking sister.
“What?” he said.
“Huh?”
“What? Why do you look so excited? Aren’t you terrified?”
“Of course. But I’ve got my big brother.”
He stood tall and puffed his chest slightly, striding tall before her through the spooky gauntlet leading toward the front door. His chucks thudded hard against the creaky wooden steps, showing whatever horrors that lay ahead that a Ghostbuster was here.
“See?” he said, turning back towards Josie. “There’s nothing to be….”
She wasn’t there. Instead, he could see her peeking around the corner from the base of the steps.
“What’re you—?”
The rocking figure lunged from its chair towards him. Its arms were outstretched, and its fingers curled with murderous intent, ready to wrap around his throat.
“Fuck!” Stewart screamed, pressing up against the wall. Something tiny pressed against his back.
DING-DONG
The doorbell. Stewart turned his terrified gaze to the opening door before looking back to the hooded figure, sitting peacefully in its rocker once more.
“Um…Trick or Treat?” Stewart said, doing his best to grin.
The owner of the house, an elderly woman with snow-white hair wearing a red and white frilly apron, stood staring at him. Her gaze moved down to his chucks and then up his costume, seemingly emphasizing how long it took.
“Aren’t you a little old for trick or treating?” she asked, tilting her head back to stare down her nose at him.
“Yeah, but my sister there…” he turned to give her an unobstructed view of her front yard and motioned towards Josie, peering around the edge of the house. “…is shy and asked me to trick or treat on her behalf.”
The woman slammed the door shut, and he could hear the robed figure chuckling nearby.
“Yeah, yeah…” he muttered, stomping down the steps back towards his sister. “Told you.”
“That’s why you’re the writer,” Josie said, smirking happily at him.
“And that’s why you’re costume when we get home is going to be ‘damsel in distress.’”
“Grrrrr…. Can I at least change?”
“No.”
“Grrrrrrrr… Can we go home now?”
“Fine.”
Stewart took one final look around the neighborhood. Jack-O-Lanterns burned brightly, illuminating the way for witches and spacemen, intermingling with the undead for an entirely too brief night where fantasy and dreams became a reality.
Turning back, he found Josie heading home, her pom-poms waving angrily. Stewart gave a final mournful look towards the land of make-believe and followed his sister towards home.
Their own land of make-believe.
***
“Let’s just head around back,” Stewart said as they approached home.
“Why? Mom and Dad aren’t home yet.”
“How do you know?”
“The lights are off.”
“The lights are always off on Halloween. They hate trick-or-treaters.”
“And yet, they make me wear this stupid outfit. Come on, Stewart. I just want to get changed.”
“You seriously think I’m not going to tie you up when you’re dressed like a cheerleader?”
“Yes. Because I’m not in the mood.”
“I’ve overpowered you before.”
She paused in the driveway, standing before the garage—a crossroad between the front door and the back gate.
“I. Want. Out.”
Stewart paused and nodded slightly, staring at his cheerleader sister. She debated walking away but figured he’d pick her up and carry her. She’d make it difficult for him, but he’d probably manage.
“Thanksgiving is coming,” Stewart said.
“Huh?” Josie said. She knew he’d been contemplating a deal but had no idea what that had to do with Halloween. The only thing they had in common was pumpkin pie.
“You remember who’s coming for dinner, right?”
“Yeah…oh.”
“Uh-huh.”
She’d forgotten their cousins were coming. And, although she’d never admit it, he’d seen how she looked at their cousin Ashley.
“That’s…. She’s….”
“You’re my sister. That doesn’t stop me from tying your ass up. When we’re older, things will probably be different,” he said with a shrug. “But for now, we take what we can get.”
“Do you think she’ll let me, you know, tie her up?”
“No idea. But, I mean, I used to….” he trailed off.
“Used to what?”
“Let’s just say I used to be stuck hanging out with Marie.”
“You what?”
“I’ll tell you later.”
“No, I need to know.”
“Nope,” he said, scooping her up, putting her over his shoulder, and heading for the backyard.
“Stewart!”
“Behave, and I’ll let you and Ashley hang out.”
“Grrrrr….”
He opened the gate and disappeared with her into the backyard.
***
“Do you really think I’m just going to stand here while you go get…whatever you plan on using tonight?” Josie asked after Stewart set her down next to the clothesline.
“No. That’s why I prepared.”
Josie glanced around, no sign of any rope or duct tape. She wondered what he’d planned for tonight. The cogs had probably begun turning the moment his parents had picked out the costume.
As much as she hated the costume, there were plenty of cheerleaders in her previous school she wouldn’t have minded tying and gagging. She saw them parading through the neighborhood in their uniforms on occasion. Although, her desire didn’t stem from their outfits but from their personalities.
Josie sighed and kicked a nearby candy pail. It was an orange pail with a smirking pumpkin on the front and even came with a lid. Stewart received it in a Happy Meal back when he could trick or treat too. He’d kept it on his shelf ever since adults began telling him he was too old.
He’d promised to give it to her someday, although she didn’t want it. She supposed he’d been saving it for tonight. She guessed that it was full of duct tape. But maybe he’d just filled it with candy, which she didn’t want either.
“Might as well open it,” Stewart said.
“Fine…” She tore the lid free. Ropes lay neatly coiled within. “Seriously, can’t you hurry up and use— Mmph! Stmrt!!!”
Stewart pulled the ball gag tight within her mouth and tightened it behind her head. He took a moment to pull her pigtails free from the strap before grabbing a length of rope from the bucket.
“Grrrrrr…” Josie threw her pompoms down and reached for the ball gag.
“Now let’s see,” Stewart said, lazily swinging the rope, “who wants time alone with our cute cousin next month?” He paused. “It is still next month, right? It’s not after midnight yet? I mean, you know what I mean.”
“Mst prblm nmt mvn mmpht ymt…”
“Are you sure?”
“Whm whm tm whm hms, Stmrt.”
“Fine. Next month. I need to remember to gag you first more often.”
“Grrrr….”
“And you’ve got to have the pompoms. I mean, come on,” he said, returning to the bucket.
“Nm.”
“Yes.” He pulled out a roll of duct tape.
“Nm.”
He put a pompom in her right hand, closed her fist around it, and duct taped her hand shut around it. “Yes.”
“Mn hmt ym.”
He put the other pompom into her right and taped it in place. “I know. Love you too, sis.”
“Grrrr….”
Snatching the rope from the ground, Stewart knotted it around her wrist and tossed it over the crossbar. Catching it, he tossed it around and around until barely any remained. He secured the last bit to her wrist, letting her hang like an uneven pendulum.
“Ym nmt gmng tm tmn mn mmp hmn?”
Stewart paused, looked at Josie, up to the looming post, and back to his sister. “Do you really want to wait for me to get the stepladder?”
“Nm.”
“That’s what I thought,” he said, tying another length around her free wrist and tossing it over the other end of the crossbar. When he’d finished, she had just enough length to try and kick him with either leg.
“Why do you always kick me?”
“Mts fm.”
Stewart sighed, pulling the rope through and forming a slipknot. He stepped towards his sister, and her leg swung out to kick him. He caught her ankle and slid the knot over it, pulling it tight. Kneeling, he dragged her ankle across and watched her tip slightly. The wrist ropes caught her, and she maintained her balance.
“Stmrt!”
He laughed heartily as he fed the rope around the post and back through her ankles, cinching them tight. She tried to lash out with her leg, but the rope held firm as he continued his makeshift figure 8 through her ankles.
“Ah,” he said. “Much better.”
“Grrrrrrr…. Mmph. Mmph.”
He looked down and noticed her knee flexing out towards him.
“Seriously?”
Shaking his head, he grabbed another length of rope. He wrapped it around the pole, then her knees, in between them, and finally in between her knees and the pole. She tried to knee him, but her leg wouldn’t budge. Instead, her upper body swayed with the gentle autumn breeze.
He stepped back, nodding at his work. His eyes danced, attempting to take her in and commit her to memory. Probably the final Halloween they’d spend together and certainly the last she’d ever dress as a cheerleader.
Her teeth sneered angrily from behind the ball gag, and he grinned at her. Then their eyes met. He saw the sadness in it, and she watched as his grin turned from mischievous to one she knew far too well. The pained grin he flashed after their mother drunkenly finished beating him, or he stood up for her, thinking she was just out of earshot.
The ‘everything is fine’ grin, although they both knew better. He glanced from her up to the stars and the winking crescent moon.
“It’s close enough,” he said. “I’ll untie you. Let’s get changed.”
“Whm?”
“Halloween is over. You know I can’t tell time.”
“Grrrrrrr….”
“What?”
“Whm cmt ym mvr jmst mjym thmgs?”
“Are you enjoying this?”
“Ym.”
“Really?”
“Mn cms ym hvmt nmtcd, mn lmk bmg tmd.”
“I’m pretty oblivious, but I figured that out.”
“Jms mntym mn bmfrm mnm mnd dmd gmt hm.”
“I don’t think they’ll be home for a while.”
“Mnky, mybm nmt.”
“No, no. You said it.”
“Stmrt…”
“What?” he said, pulling a candy bar from her sack and gently unwrapping it. “I’m curious if they’ll notice if I just leave you here till thanksgiving.”
He flashed his genuine grin as she glared at him, sinking his teeth into the candy bar.
He lifted his fist and knocked three times. Always three times. Not for any superstitious reason, but because Gene Kelly knocked three times on each door in Singing in the Rain before proclaiming: ‘Gotta Dance!’ Stewart had no idea why it’d inspired him as it had, but it did.
“GO AWAY!” a voice boomed.
Under different circumstances, he might’ve been frightened, but it was Halloween, the most significant day of the year he and Josie were split on. He loved the spookiness, dressing up, and pretending to be someone else.
Josie, however, couldn’t understand any of it. She was, after all, just Josie. She didn’t overly enjoy being herself but saw no reason to pretend to be anyone else. And putting on a stupid costume didn’t change anything.
Granted, the fact that Stewart got to pick his costume was also a significant factor. This year he’d chosen to be a Ghostbuster and had even promised to take his sister out trick or treating instead of going out with his friends. Their parents believed it an altruistic move, but she knew it was because they’d found another fourth member and refused to have five ghostbusters.
Josie would’ve preferred if he’d gone out with them. She could’ve convinced their parents she’d be fine on her own and just snuck out and hid until it was time to come home. But she knew Stewart would drag her around the neighborhood, his last taste of trick or treating until he found a nice girl and settled down.
She wondered if he’d have kids for any other reason. She doubted he’d miss her constantly bugging him once he finally escaped. And then she’d be all alone.
Knock, knock, knock
“I told you—“
“The sooner we start, the sooner Mom and Dad will head to church, and the sooner we can come home.
“I thought they left already.”
“They’re waiting. You know they are.”
“Grrrrrrrr. How come you get to be a Ghostbuster? We could’ve been Ghostbusters together.”
“I didn’t pick your costume.”
“I know.”
“Really? I honestly didn’t think you’d believe me.”
“If you’d picked this, I’d never talk to you again.”
“All right, fine. I totally picked that. No more bugging me.”
“Grrrrrrrrrrr.”
“Hey, I at least tried to hint at the green one.”
“How about hinting at anything else?”
“I mean, I said: ‘She’s not going to wear that.’ And they just said: ‘Of course, she will; it’s perfect for a girl like her and all the boys—‘“
“GRRRRRRRRRRR!”
“And I said: ‘She’ll want the green one.’”
“That’s hinting?”
“I mean, they’re not as oblivious as you, but they’re still pretty bad.”
CLICK
The door unlocked, and Stewart stepped back before it swung open. Josie stood before him wearing a pink cheerleader outfit—complete with pom-poms—flesh-colored tights, frilly pink socks, and her saddle shoes. Their mother had pulled her hair into tight pigtails that seemed to stretch her ears upward. He thought she looked utterly ridiculous, and her frown, which threatened to reach her chin, told him she knew.
“Cute as ever,” he said, trying to smile without allowing it to turn into a snicker, which would, in turn, become gales of laughter.
“I hate you,” she replied.
“What’d I do?”
She let her eyes run along his Ghostbuster costume. It wasn’t anywhere near film accurate—the jumpsuit was tan instead of khaki, it had a sewn-in web belt, his proton pack was inflatable, and he wore red chucks instead of combat boots—but he’d picked it.
He’d been allowed to go to the store, pick his costume, and wear what he liked. Even from a movie, their parents had decried ‘ridiculous at best.’ They didn’t believe in ghosts and, for some reason, were convinced that when you died, you became an angel if you were worthy of passing through the pearly gates.
Josie had no idea why anyone would wish to become a monstrous servant made of wings, eyeballs, and flames. Also, there was the fact that there was absolutely no mention or indication of that occurring in the Bible.
But he’d been allowed to wear it. While she was stuck wearing a stupid pink cheerleader costume to appeal to boys.
There weren’t even cheerleaders at her school. Sports were strictly forbidden. Rabid fanbases were viewed similarly to those at Sodom and Gomorrah. But boys always enjoyed looking at cheerleaders, and they wanted the boys to notice her.
“I’ve got a movie to show you.”
“Can we just stay here and watch it tonight?”
“It’s Halloween.”
“Yeah? Or are you saying it’s the movie Halloween?”
“No. Different one. But what makes you think it’s not a horror movie?”
Josie sighed, looked down at her ridiculous costume, and fluffed the skirt. Her fists clenched it tightly and slightly pounded against her thighs. When she looked up, her eyes were wet and pained.
“Because you know I hate them!” she screamed. “You know I hate all of this! This stupid outfit and this stupid night! Why do I have to be a cheerleader? Cheerleaders are icky and blonde and listen to Britney Spears and rap music.
“You are always getting into trouble. Your grades aren’t much better than mine. You steal! You break all those stupid commandments they’re always going on about! But you’re a boy, and you’re into girls, so none of that matters!”
Hot tears streamed down her cheeks as she continued to scream. She knew better than to say any of this to her parents. They wouldn’t suddenly change their minds on the subject. They’d likely send her away from Stewart and their grandfather to some institution or coven. They were the only two who even attempted to understand or accept her.
Stewart stood before her, his hands in his pockets, staring down and allowing her to vent. He’d become so used to being screamed at by their parents that her sudden explosion barely phased him. His brain had likely ventured off to Halloweentown or somewhere, although his eyes hadn’t gained their usual glassy expression. They remained fixed on her.
Josie wanted to slam her fists into him, anything to get him to respond. She raised them, but instead of pounding, she hurtled them around his waist, burying her face into his soft costume, suddenly thankful for the lack of screen accuracy. They both usually hated hugs, but at that moment, they held each other so tight that nothing could tear them apart.
“It’s not a horror movie,” Stewart said finally.
“Huh?”
“The movie,” he said, his voice little more than a mumble. “It’s not a horror movie. But it’s also nothing we want to watch with Mom and Dad. Might give them ideas.”
Josie giggled and pulled away from her brother, groaning and wiping her eyes. She hated when they got sappy, and she supposed going trick or treating with him was a fitting ‘punishment’ for flipping out on him. She always joked that Stewart was like a Sour Patch Kid. First, he was sour, and then he was sweet.
“Now you’ve got me worried,” she said.
“But I’m a Cheerleader.”
“That’s my line right now. Unless you want to switch costumes?”
“If it wasn’t for my recent growth spurt, I would. Luckily, I had the foresight to get the baggier costume just in case.”
“Not because it was more in style?”
“Of course not. But not all of us can dress as timeless as you.”
“Awwww. At least you like my outfits.”
“I was talking about your school uniform.”
“Grrrrrrr.”
“Okay, and the outfits.”
“I really don’t care.”
“You say that, and yet you obviously do.”
“What’s the stupid movie? Let’s just get this night over with.”
“But I’m a Cheerleader. That wasn’t a joke. It was the movie title.”
“Wow. And here I thought maybe you were being sweet.”
“Just wait till we watch it. I know my sister.”
“And I know my brother,” she said, her frown creeping ever so slightly up towards a smirk.
“Are you wearing lipstick?” Stewart asked, noticing her lips were a lighter shade of pink than usual.
“Mom put it on me. She found a shade that matched the uniform and said: ‘Boys like girls who wear makeup.’”
“We do?”
“Normal ones.”
“Ouch. And I just don’t put that much thought into it. If a woman can stand having me around for more than five minutes, I’m honestly not sure I’d care what she looked like.”
“Even I don’t like having you around that long.”
“You don’t get a choice.”
“True.”
“That’s what the ropes are for. “
“Seriously?”
Stewart shrugged. “Let’s get some candy. Maybe you won’t be a holy terror, and we can just come home and relax.”
“I hate Halloween,” Josie said, heading for the door. “It’s so stupid and—“
They ventured out into the night together.
***
“Can we go home now?” Josie asked, wandering back to her brother after the first house, somehow sulking worse than when she’d headed up.
“Did you get some candy or just a rock?”
Josie dug into her bag and pulled out a single piece of loser candy. “She told me cheerleaders are supposed to smile.”
“I’ve seen some cheerleaders with some serious resting bitch face.”
“Do I have that?”
“You?” Stewart chuckled as they ventured down the sidewalk towards the next house. “You barely have a resting face.”
“Grrrrrrr. I don’t even like candy.”
“Sweet. I’ll eat it all,” he said, instinctively ducking beneath a plastic skeleton strung from a tree.
Josie paused briefly and looked up at the decoration hanging a few feet above them. “Are you scared?”
“Of course not.”
“Hehe. You ducked like you were.”
“I just didn’t want to bump my head.”
“Why didn’t you use your proton pack?”
“Okay, first,” he pointed at the skeleton, “that’s a skeleton, not a ghost. And second,” he pulled the inflatable neutrona wand from behind his back, “I didn’t charge this thing before we left.”
“Isn’t there just a nuclear reactor in your proton pack?”
“Um…is there? Egon just told me to put it on, and then he turned it on.”
“I’m pretty sure. Why don’t you try it?”
Stewart looked down at his sister and saw she’d begun to smirk. They both knew it was an inflatable piece of plastic, but each wanted to know who’d crack first. After her meltdown earlier, he decided he’d do whatever it took to make her smirk. He let out a sigh, aimed the neutrona wand toward the skeleton, took a deep breath and
“Bzzzzzzzzzaaaaaahhhhhh!”
The only thing Stewart was worse at than voice impersonations was sound effects. His proton pack did not disappoint, and she giggled gleefully as parents hustled their children past.
“Okay, that’s enough,” he said, lowering the wand and giving her a playful shove. “Ghost’s dead.”
“Of course it is. And you didn’t trap it.”
“The costume didn’t come with one.”
“Lame. But I guess since you don’t have a trap, we might as well go home.”
“More candy!”
“Why don’t you get the candy then? You’ve got a costume.”
“You know what’ll happen if I go up there? I’ll say, ‘Trick or Treat.’ They’ll look at me all weird. Say, “Aren’t you a little old for Trick or Treating?’ And I’ll say, ‘Yeah, but my sister there….’ And you’ll be peeking out from around the corner. ‘…is shy and asked me to trick or treat on her behalf.’ And then they’ll slam the door in my face.”
“That’s…oddly specific.”
Stewart shrugged. “I’m a writer. We get specific.”
“You only got specific because I made you.”
“Yeah, well.”
“What about this house?” Josie said, motioning to one covered in graves, jack-o-lanterns, and a stone well with a rotting arm reaching up to crawl free.
“This house?” Stewart asked, obviously surprised. She wouldn’t knock on the most pleasant-looking white picket-fenced house without him forcing her. Something was awry.
“Yeah,” she nodded.
He glanced towards the house—a robed figure sat rocking in a chair on the front porch—and back to his smirking sister.
“What?” he said.
“Huh?”
“What? Why do you look so excited? Aren’t you terrified?”
“Of course. But I’ve got my big brother.”
He stood tall and puffed his chest slightly, striding tall before her through the spooky gauntlet leading toward the front door. His chucks thudded hard against the creaky wooden steps, showing whatever horrors that lay ahead that a Ghostbuster was here.
“See?” he said, turning back towards Josie. “There’s nothing to be….”
She wasn’t there. Instead, he could see her peeking around the corner from the base of the steps.
“What’re you—?”
The rocking figure lunged from its chair towards him. Its arms were outstretched, and its fingers curled with murderous intent, ready to wrap around his throat.
“Fuck!” Stewart screamed, pressing up against the wall. Something tiny pressed against his back.
DING-DONG
The doorbell. Stewart turned his terrified gaze to the opening door before looking back to the hooded figure, sitting peacefully in its rocker once more.
“Um…Trick or Treat?” Stewart said, doing his best to grin.
The owner of the house, an elderly woman with snow-white hair wearing a red and white frilly apron, stood staring at him. Her gaze moved down to his chucks and then up his costume, seemingly emphasizing how long it took.
“Aren’t you a little old for trick or treating?” she asked, tilting her head back to stare down her nose at him.
“Yeah, but my sister there…” he turned to give her an unobstructed view of her front yard and motioned towards Josie, peering around the edge of the house. “…is shy and asked me to trick or treat on her behalf.”
The woman slammed the door shut, and he could hear the robed figure chuckling nearby.
“Yeah, yeah…” he muttered, stomping down the steps back towards his sister. “Told you.”
“That’s why you’re the writer,” Josie said, smirking happily at him.
“And that’s why you’re costume when we get home is going to be ‘damsel in distress.’”
“Grrrrr…. Can I at least change?”
“No.”
“Grrrrrrrr… Can we go home now?”
“Fine.”
Stewart took one final look around the neighborhood. Jack-O-Lanterns burned brightly, illuminating the way for witches and spacemen, intermingling with the undead for an entirely too brief night where fantasy and dreams became a reality.
Turning back, he found Josie heading home, her pom-poms waving angrily. Stewart gave a final mournful look towards the land of make-believe and followed his sister towards home.
Their own land of make-believe.
***
“Let’s just head around back,” Stewart said as they approached home.
“Why? Mom and Dad aren’t home yet.”
“How do you know?”
“The lights are off.”
“The lights are always off on Halloween. They hate trick-or-treaters.”
“And yet, they make me wear this stupid outfit. Come on, Stewart. I just want to get changed.”
“You seriously think I’m not going to tie you up when you’re dressed like a cheerleader?”
“Yes. Because I’m not in the mood.”
“I’ve overpowered you before.”
She paused in the driveway, standing before the garage—a crossroad between the front door and the back gate.
“I. Want. Out.”
Stewart paused and nodded slightly, staring at his cheerleader sister. She debated walking away but figured he’d pick her up and carry her. She’d make it difficult for him, but he’d probably manage.
“Thanksgiving is coming,” Stewart said.
“Huh?” Josie said. She knew he’d been contemplating a deal but had no idea what that had to do with Halloween. The only thing they had in common was pumpkin pie.
“You remember who’s coming for dinner, right?”
“Yeah…oh.”
“Uh-huh.”
She’d forgotten their cousins were coming. And, although she’d never admit it, he’d seen how she looked at their cousin Ashley.
“That’s…. She’s….”
“You’re my sister. That doesn’t stop me from tying your ass up. When we’re older, things will probably be different,” he said with a shrug. “But for now, we take what we can get.”
“Do you think she’ll let me, you know, tie her up?”
“No idea. But, I mean, I used to….” he trailed off.
“Used to what?”
“Let’s just say I used to be stuck hanging out with Marie.”
“You what?”
“I’ll tell you later.”
“No, I need to know.”
“Nope,” he said, scooping her up, putting her over his shoulder, and heading for the backyard.
“Stewart!”
“Behave, and I’ll let you and Ashley hang out.”
“Grrrrr….”
He opened the gate and disappeared with her into the backyard.
***
“Do you really think I’m just going to stand here while you go get…whatever you plan on using tonight?” Josie asked after Stewart set her down next to the clothesline.
“No. That’s why I prepared.”
Josie glanced around, no sign of any rope or duct tape. She wondered what he’d planned for tonight. The cogs had probably begun turning the moment his parents had picked out the costume.
As much as she hated the costume, there were plenty of cheerleaders in her previous school she wouldn’t have minded tying and gagging. She saw them parading through the neighborhood in their uniforms on occasion. Although, her desire didn’t stem from their outfits but from their personalities.
Josie sighed and kicked a nearby candy pail. It was an orange pail with a smirking pumpkin on the front and even came with a lid. Stewart received it in a Happy Meal back when he could trick or treat too. He’d kept it on his shelf ever since adults began telling him he was too old.
He’d promised to give it to her someday, although she didn’t want it. She supposed he’d been saving it for tonight. She guessed that it was full of duct tape. But maybe he’d just filled it with candy, which she didn’t want either.
“Might as well open it,” Stewart said.
“Fine…” She tore the lid free. Ropes lay neatly coiled within. “Seriously, can’t you hurry up and use— Mmph! Stmrt!!!”
Stewart pulled the ball gag tight within her mouth and tightened it behind her head. He took a moment to pull her pigtails free from the strap before grabbing a length of rope from the bucket.
“Grrrrrr…” Josie threw her pompoms down and reached for the ball gag.
“Now let’s see,” Stewart said, lazily swinging the rope, “who wants time alone with our cute cousin next month?” He paused. “It is still next month, right? It’s not after midnight yet? I mean, you know what I mean.”
“Mst prblm nmt mvn mmpht ymt…”
“Are you sure?”
“Whm whm tm whm hms, Stmrt.”
“Fine. Next month. I need to remember to gag you first more often.”
“Grrrr….”
“And you’ve got to have the pompoms. I mean, come on,” he said, returning to the bucket.
“Nm.”
“Yes.” He pulled out a roll of duct tape.
“Nm.”
He put a pompom in her right hand, closed her fist around it, and duct taped her hand shut around it. “Yes.”
“Mn hmt ym.”
He put the other pompom into her right and taped it in place. “I know. Love you too, sis.”
“Grrrr….”
Snatching the rope from the ground, Stewart knotted it around her wrist and tossed it over the crossbar. Catching it, he tossed it around and around until barely any remained. He secured the last bit to her wrist, letting her hang like an uneven pendulum.
“Ym nmt gmng tm tmn mn mmp hmn?”
Stewart paused, looked at Josie, up to the looming post, and back to his sister. “Do you really want to wait for me to get the stepladder?”
“Nm.”
“That’s what I thought,” he said, tying another length around her free wrist and tossing it over the other end of the crossbar. When he’d finished, she had just enough length to try and kick him with either leg.
“Why do you always kick me?”
“Mts fm.”
Stewart sighed, pulling the rope through and forming a slipknot. He stepped towards his sister, and her leg swung out to kick him. He caught her ankle and slid the knot over it, pulling it tight. Kneeling, he dragged her ankle across and watched her tip slightly. The wrist ropes caught her, and she maintained her balance.
“Stmrt!”
He laughed heartily as he fed the rope around the post and back through her ankles, cinching them tight. She tried to lash out with her leg, but the rope held firm as he continued his makeshift figure 8 through her ankles.
“Ah,” he said. “Much better.”
“Grrrrrrr…. Mmph. Mmph.”
He looked down and noticed her knee flexing out towards him.
“Seriously?”
Shaking his head, he grabbed another length of rope. He wrapped it around the pole, then her knees, in between them, and finally in between her knees and the pole. She tried to knee him, but her leg wouldn’t budge. Instead, her upper body swayed with the gentle autumn breeze.
He stepped back, nodding at his work. His eyes danced, attempting to take her in and commit her to memory. Probably the final Halloween they’d spend together and certainly the last she’d ever dress as a cheerleader.
Her teeth sneered angrily from behind the ball gag, and he grinned at her. Then their eyes met. He saw the sadness in it, and she watched as his grin turned from mischievous to one she knew far too well. The pained grin he flashed after their mother drunkenly finished beating him, or he stood up for her, thinking she was just out of earshot.
The ‘everything is fine’ grin, although they both knew better. He glanced from her up to the stars and the winking crescent moon.
“It’s close enough,” he said. “I’ll untie you. Let’s get changed.”
“Whm?”
“Halloween is over. You know I can’t tell time.”
“Grrrrrrr….”
“What?”
“Whm cmt ym mvr jmst mjym thmgs?”
“Are you enjoying this?”
“Ym.”
“Really?”
“Mn cms ym hvmt nmtcd, mn lmk bmg tmd.”
“I’m pretty oblivious, but I figured that out.”
“Jms mntym mn bmfrm mnm mnd dmd gmt hm.”
“I don’t think they’ll be home for a while.”
“Mnky, mybm nmt.”
“No, no. You said it.”
“Stmrt…”
“What?” he said, pulling a candy bar from her sack and gently unwrapping it. “I’m curious if they’ll notice if I just leave you here till thanksgiving.”
He flashed his genuine grin as she glared at him, sinking his teeth into the candy bar.
Oh dear god...
I was gonna say that this (and your other stories) are some of the best I've seen on this site. The writting and storytelling are just * chef's kiss *.
But then I realised that this is in the true stories section, and now many parts of this just hit different, especially this paragraph:![Sad :(](./images/smilies/icon_e_sad.gif)
(However, this doesn't change the fact that the TUG-parts of your stories are AMAZING.)
I was gonna say that this (and your other stories) are some of the best I've seen on this site. The writting and storytelling are just * chef's kiss *.
But then I realised that this is in the true stories section, and now many parts of this just hit different, especially this paragraph:
I'm so sorry for the both of you. I wish you all the best!Her teeth sneered angrily from behind the ball gag, and he grinned at her. Then their eyes met. He saw the sadness in it, and she watched as his grin turned from mischievous to one she knew far too well. The pained grin he flashed after their mother drunkenly finished beating him, or he stood up for her, thinking she was just out of earshot.
![Sad :(](./images/smilies/icon_e_sad.gif)
(However, this doesn't change the fact that the TUG-parts of your stories are AMAZING.)
- some_wanderer
- Forum Contributer
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- Location: Somewhere in the Far East
9/10
A great story yet again. You never disappoint.
A great story yet again. You never disappoint.
If your story has a little sister tied up by their brother,
I'll be there with comment and rating![👍](//twemoji.maxcdn.com/2/svg/1f44d.svg)
I'll be there with comment and rating
I really enjoy reading your stories..... I can't wait to read more!
-
- Forum Contributer
- Posts: 37
- Joined: 1 year ago
Thank you! And we got through it together and we’ve been having fun reminiscing about having fun together amidst all that.redlukas wrote: ↑1 year ago Oh dear god...
I was gonna say that this (and your other stories) are some of the best I've seen on this site. The writting and storytelling are just * chef's kiss *.
But then I realised that this is in the true stories section, and now many parts of this just hit different, especially this paragraph:I'm so sorry for the both of you. I wish you all the best!Her teeth sneered angrily from behind the ball gag, and he grinned at her. Then their eyes met. He saw the sadness in it, and she watched as his grin turned from mischievous to one she knew far too well. The pained grin he flashed after their mother drunkenly finished beating him, or he stood up for her, thinking she was just out of earshot.
(However, this doesn't change the fact that the TUG-parts of your stories are AMAZING.)
-
- Forum Contributer
- Posts: 37
- Joined: 1 year ago
Thank you!
-
- Forum Contributer
- Posts: 37
- Joined: 1 year ago
- Josiesmith005
- Forum Contributer
- Posts: 2
- Joined: 1 year ago
I'm the Josie from all of these stories. And yeah, Halloween sucks.
I'm glad you've been able to find the good parts of the past in spite of the bad.DuckStewStories wrote: ↑1 year ago Thank you! And we got through it together and we’ve been having fun reminiscing about having fun together amidst all that.
I'm confused.Josiesmith005 wrote: ↑1 year ago I'm the Josie from all of these stories. And yeah, Halloween sucks.
![Embarrassed :oops:](./images/smilies/icon_redface.gif)
Last edited by AlexUSA3 1 year ago, edited 1 time in total.
CGC Short Stories (F+f+/F+f+): viewtopic.php?f=8&t=20527
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This story is clearly fictional, like most of the stories in this section, unfortuntlyredlukas wrote: ↑1 year ago Oh dear god...
I was gonna say that this (and your other stories) are some of the best I've seen on this site. The writting and storytelling are just * chef's kiss *.
But then I realised that this is in the true stories section, and now many parts of this just hit different, especially this paragraph:I'm so sorry for the both of you. I wish you all the best!Her teeth sneered angrily from behind the ball gag, and he grinned at her. Then their eyes met. He saw the sadness in it, and she watched as his grin turned from mischievous to one she knew far too well. The pained grin he flashed after their mother drunkenly finished beating him, or he stood up for her, thinking she was just out of earshot.
(However, this doesn't change the fact that the TUG-parts of your stories are AMAZING.)
We all expect some parts to be fictional, but that doesn't mean we throw the baby out with the bath water.LaxMax wrote: ↑1 year agoThis story is clearly fictional, like most of the stories in this section, unfortunately.redlukas wrote: ↑1 year ago Oh dear god...
I was gonna say that this (and your other stories) are some of the best I've seen on this site. The writting and storytelling are just * chef's kiss *.
But then I realised that this is in the true stories section, and now many parts of this just hit different, especially this paragraph:I'm so sorry for the both of you. I wish you all the best!Her teeth sneered angrily from behind the ball gag, and he grinned at her. Then their eyes met. He saw the sadness in it, and she watched as his grin turned from mischievous to one she knew far too well. The pained grin he flashed after their mother drunkenly finished beating him, or he stood up for her, thinking she was just out of earshot.
(However, this doesn't change the fact that the TUG-parts of your stories are AMAZING.)
CGC Short Stories (F+f+/F+f+): viewtopic.php?f=8&t=20527
Find my other CGC Stories in the same link above!
![Image](https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/53453232728_4995409211.jpg)
Find my other CGC Stories in the same link above!
![Image](https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/53453232728_4995409211.jpg)
Some parts are just because my brother is a writer and does what writers do,LaxMax wrote: ↑1 year agoThis story is clearly fictional, like most of the stories in this section, unfortuntlyredlukas wrote: ↑1 year ago Oh dear god...
I was gonna say that this (and your other stories) are some of the best I've seen on this site. The writting and storytelling are just * chef's kiss *.
But then I realised that this is in the true stories section, and now many parts of this just hit different, especially this paragraph:I'm so sorry for the both of you. I wish you all the best!Her teeth sneered angrily from behind the ball gag, and he grinned at her. Then their eyes met. He saw the sadness in it, and she watched as his grin turned from mischievous to one she knew far too well. The pained grin he flashed after their mother drunkenly finished beating him, or he stood up for her, thinking she was just out of earshot.
(However, this doesn't change the fact that the TUG-parts of your stories are AMAZING.)
Our mom was a mean drunk. That is very true.
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We're glad to have you aboard here. It's a fun place to hang around for sure.
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CGC Short Stories (F+f+/F+f+): viewtopic.php?f=8&t=20527
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