In schools all around America, children are asking their friends, “What are you going as this year?”. It’s a very important decision every child must make at this time of the year.
When I was a child, I was a clown, a hobo, a mummy, a vampire, a werewolf, and many more that I can’t remember anymore. It was always a little stressful to choose a costume that would be popular but not stupid.
I have three Halloween parties this week starting Wednesday. I’m excited to see the costumes of my students. They are very creative every year. This year, I plan on going as a mad scientist.
I’ll post some pictures next week. In the meantime, here are some of my costumes from past years. Unfortunately, I can’t find any from my childhood.
So, what are you going as this year?
Finally, as promised, here is your scary story for the week. Good luck!
The Vanishing (disappearing) Hitchhiker.
A dozen miles outside of Baltimore, the main road from New York is crossed by another highway. It is a dangerous intersection.
Dr. Brown was driving home from a dance late one Saturday night. He slowed up for the intersection, and was surprised to see a lovely girl, dressed in only an evening gown, asking him for a lift. He hit his brakes, and told her to climb into the back seat of his car. “The front is full of golf clubs and bags,” he explained. “But what is a girl like you doing out here all alone at this time of night?”
“It’s too long a story to tell you now,” said the girl. Her voice was sweet and high — like the tinkling of sleigh bells. “Please, please take me home. I’ll explain everything there. The address is ___ North Charles Street. I do hope it’s not too far out of your way.”
The doctor began driving. He drove quickly to the address she had given him, and as he pulled up before the dark house, he said, “Here we are.” Then he turned around. The back seat was empty!
“What the devil?” the doctor said to himself. The girl couldn’t possibly have fallen from the car. Nor could she simply have vanished. He rang the house doorbell, more confused than he had ever been in his life. At last the door opened. A gray-haired, very tired-looking woman looked out at him.
“I can’t tell you what an amazing thing has happened,” began the doctor. “A young girl gave me this address a while back. I drove her here and . . .”
“Yes, yes, I know,” said the woman wearily. “This has happened several other Saturday evenings in the past month. That girl, sir, was my daughter. She was killed in an automobile accident at that intersection where you saw her almost two years ago . . .”