I was listening to my audiobook, getting ready for bed. Warm tea in my hand, all snug and cozy with my covers pulled up to my chin. It was a cold October night, just two days before Halloween. The kids were so excited about the holiday. They’d been talking my ear off about all the candy they were going to get.
We live in a really nice neighborhood where everyone always gives out full-size candy bars — except for Mrs. Lilly. Every year, they egg her house. I feel bad for the old lady; she never has many visitors and is usually alone. Maybe I’ll go over and say hi tomorrow.
As I sat in bed thinking about Mrs. Lilly, I heard my sons yelling at each other. Not again, I thought as I got up. It’s 10 PM — they should be asleep. I dragged my feet to their room, but instead of fixing the problem, my eyes were distracted by a massive door that wasn’t there before.
It was shaped like a large pumpkin with little vines curling all around it.
“Hey!” I yelled.
The boys went quiet and just looked at me.
“What is that? And when did it get there?” I asked.
All three of them shrugged their shoulders. Then Isaiah spoke up, grinning.
“It’s a door, Mom! Hahaha. You’re so silly.”
“I know that! But how did it get here?!” I said, shaking my head.
They looked at each other, then together said, “Didn’t you put it there?”
“No!” I gasped.
Then we all just stood there, staring at the door.
“ZaMya! Come here!” I yelled.
Soon after, I heard footsteps coming toward us. Sounding annoyed, Mya said, “Yes, Mom,” not even noticing the large seven-foot door in the middle of the room. She just wanted to get back to her phone games.
“Do you know how this door got here?” I asked.
“What door?” she said, rolling her eyes.
When she finally spotted the door, her eyes grew as big as basketballs. “When did that get there!?” she shouted.
Shaking my head, I said, “That’s what we’re trying to figure out.”
We all sat there for a moment, just gazing at the door with curious wonder.
Mya made the first move, grabbing the handle and saying, “Why don’t we just open it!”
Before I could stop her, she swung the door open. A cool breeze came through the doorway, carrying the smell of fall — pumpkin pie, vanilla, and apple. I took a deep breath, trying to figure out what to do next.
But my boys didn’t give me time to think. Isaiah ran in, giggling, with his big brothers not too far behind.
“Mya, grab our backpack!” I shouted. It had everything we needed for outings.
I dashed in after the boys before they got too far. I couldn’t risk losing them in a mysterious world.
“HEY, WAIT FOR ME!” I yelled.
My boys stopped in their tracks and ran back to me. Mya came through the door a few seconds later.
I looked around, trying to take in my surroundings, but I couldn’t focus. Ishaan was already sniffing the air like a little hound.
“Mommy, I want apple pie! I smell apple pie!”
“Shh, let Mommy think,” I said.
Juju wasn’t too sure about this adventure. He clung to my arm, trying to hide from something I couldn’t see.
We were surrounded by pumpkins and standing on a dirt path. The pumpkins were all different sizes. The yellow and white ones looked regular, but there was something off — a strange glow and a faint shimmer in the air around them.
Still, I started walking down the path. Soon, we stumbled upon a small village.
I felt like I was being watched, so I told all the kids to stay close.
“We don’t know what’s here. We have to be safe,” I said as I grabbed my youngest’s hand. I didn’t need him running off again.
Every house had its lights on, but we didn’t see anyone as we started to walk down the path again. The houses looked like little cabins, beautiful with their Halloween décor. It was like we had stepped into a Halloween town — but where were the people who lived here?
Ishaan started to get impatient, talking about pie again. He sure does love his sweets.
“Mommy, where’s the pie? Are we going to go get some?”
All I could do was laugh and shrug my shoulders.
“I don’t even know where we are,” I said.
Isaiah giggled as he tried to run off, but I held on tight, making sure he didn’t get away — though I let him lead the way. He was running toward a bright glowing object. The light was so strong I had to shield my eyes.
As we got closer, we noticed it was a cabin with a sign that read Game Room.
Mya leaped with joy and dashed inside, leaving us behind. The boys still can’t read well, so they didn’t understand why she was so excited until we walked in after her.
Inside, I let Isaiah explore since it wasn’t that big. Juju decided it was safe to come out from hiding and ran off with Ishaan. The room was filled with arcade games, trampolines, and an indoor jungle gym.
As I let the kids play, I heard a whistle, soft and distant, but I couldn’t tell where it was coming from. My stomach twisted as I decided to investigate — but only after reminding everyone not to leave and telling the boys to stick together.
I started to walk toward what looked like a hollow log, but as I got closer, it disappeared. A chill ran through me, and I started to feel uneasy as the whistling grew louder. But something inside told me I had to keep searching. There was something here — but what?
As I continued to snoop around, I heard Mya call out, “Mom, don’t forget we have to stay together. Don’t go too far!”
“I know, Mya. I’m not going too far,” I said, waving her off.
I wandered for a few more minutes, then out of the corner of my eye, I saw a shadow following me.
I stopped and spun around — but nothing was there.
I walked some more, and there it was again. A quick silhouette, there and gone. Still nothing when I turned my head.
I must be imagining things, I thought.
Since the whistling had stopped, I headed back to my children, who were still playing. For about an hour, everything seemed normal. I chased Isaiah through the ball pits, jumped on the trampoline with Juju, lost some games to Mya, and went down the slides with Ishaan.
We were all having a good time until Juju suddenly stopped me and pointed toward the window.
“What’s wrong, Juju?”
He looked terrified, his little body starting to tremble, but said nothing.
I looked in the direction he was pointing but saw nothing.
I pulled him into a hug. “If you see something, you can tell Mommy.”
He looked back, shook his head, and — with a smile — ran back to play with his brothers.
I stood there, staring at the window, wondering what he saw. The uneasy feeling was back.
I had to think of what to do next.
I gathered the kids together and said, “Maybe we should go somewhere else.”
“To get pie!” Ishaan shouted with joy.
“Maybe,” I whispered, unsure of what to do next. I wanted to go back home, but I didn’t want to stop the fun.
I had my sons hold hands and walk in front of me so I could keep an eye on them. Mya walked right beside me as we left the game room.
When we stepped outside, Mya tapped my shoulder and whispered, “What’s that over there?”
I looked to where she was pointing and saw the silhouette of a man… but where his head should have been was a pumpkin.
“It’s probably a decoration,” I said nervously, then quickly turned and went in the opposite direction of the figure.
As we walked away, I heard a murmur, faint but clear. I wasn’t sure what it said, but it almost sounded like: beware.
But it couldn’t have. Could it?
Soon, we found where all the sweet smells were coming from, and Ishaan’s face lit up with pure joy.
“Can we go, Mommy?” Ishaan yelled as we spotted what looked like a bakery.
In the windows was a beautiful display of pies, donuts, cakes, and tons of other sweets.
If there was all this fresh food… someone had to make it, right?
Trying not to disappoint my son, I said yes — but deep down, I knew we shouldn’t.
The bakery was amazing — almost too good to be true. The cakes, pies, and donuts looked magazine-ready, each one more perfect than the last.
I started to think we shouldn’t eat the food. But just as I opened my mouth to say something, Ishaan was already shoving pie in his mouth with both hands. He looked like a little piggy, crumbs everywhere and filling smeared on his cheeks.
I couldn’t help but laugh.
I sighed and told the other kids they could eat too, slightly hoping I wouldn’t regret that decision later.
As the kids feasted, I looked around. I didn’t want to eat — something still felt off. I wandered through the bakery, scanning for any sign of someone… or something living here.
After a few minutes, I found a sign hanging over the exit.
“Beware of the time, or you may stay a long time.”
“What does that even mean?” I whispered to myself.
I tried to push the worry away and enjoy this place with my kids.
We laughed and joked, eating as many sweets as we could, washing them down with endless cups of hot cocoa and apple cider.
“Look at me!” Ishaan said as he tossed a cookie up and caught it perfectly in his mouth.
Then Mya shouted, “Catch!” and tossed mini donut holes to Juju, who jumped up to try. He stumbled over the chair and landed with a soft thud.
We all laughed together while I helped Juju up, ruffling his hair as he smiled sheepishly.
Time slipped by as we played and ate, everything feeling almost perfect…
Until I saw it again.
The pumpkin man.
I tried to act like I didn’t see him. I didn’t want to scare my children, especially since they were having so much fun together. That didn’t happen often. Mya usually liked to stay in her room to avoid her “annoying” baby brothers.
But the man — the pumpkin man — was staring right at us.
I was so thankful my children were too busy laughing and playing to notice.
“Hey, hey, let’s settle down. I know we’re having fun, but I think it’s time to go,” I said, trying to keep my focus on them instead of the window.
“No! I want to stay here,” Ishaan demanded.
I sighed. “Baby, we’ve been here a while. It’s time to move on.”
He started to cry and nuzzled his face into my chest. “Please,” he murmured.
“I’m sorry, but no. We have to go,” I said gently.
When I finally found the courage to look back toward the window, he was gone.
I grabbed our backpack and rushed everyone toward the door. “Come on, guys, it’s time to go!”
Out in the shadows of the pumpkin fields, I noticed movement and silently prayed the kids didn’t see it.
As I tried to think of what direction we should go, Juju suddenly started dragging us toward a large tree.
“Juju, it’s time to go!” I said, my voice tight with worry as I glanced around. I tried not to let my fear show too much, but Mya noticed.
“It’s okay, Mom. You know Juju likes climbing trees. We’re okay,” she giggled.
Then she and her brothers ran toward the tree, their laughter echoing through the quiet village.
But… are we okay?
And why does this village seem to be made for us?
It can’t be a coincidence.
It has to be something more.
The tree was large, but yet easy to climb. Again, too perfect to be true. I had never seen a tree like this before. It was like it was made… just for us.
Everyone was able to climb part of the tree — even Ishaan, who is usually a terrible climber.
Even though the tree was great, it made me uneasy.
I started to climb so I could try to find our way home. But something was wrong. Looking out from the tree, everything was blurry… like this place wanted to keep us here.
41 740
Charring east
But why?
I tried to act calm, and it seemed to work.
“Okay, kids, we are only staying 10 minutes,” I said, forcing a smile.
Juju stomped his feet and said, “But everyone else had more time at their place.” His face was scrunched up in a frown.
“Fine. We’ll stay 30 minutes, but we have to go home right after.”
My heart was beating hard in my chest, but I ignored it and started to play.
We played tag in the tree. The boys ran and jumped from branch to branch, their giggles filling the air, while Mya and I struggled to keep our balance.
“COME GET ME!” Juju yelled as he swung through the tree.
I ran after him… but something caught my eye.
Another sign. It was hanging from a branch.
I got closer to read it.
“When branches sway and shadows creep,
The wise will leave, the rest will sleep.”
“Huh? Another weird sign… what does this mean…” I muttered under my breath.
I looked up to find my children and let out a scream.
The man… the pumpkin man… was in the tree.
At the very top.
The tree started to shake with force.
I’m so over this, I thought.
“IT’S TIME TO GO!” I shouted.
The kids all whined.
“Mom, it’s just the wind. Why are you acting so weird?” Mya giggled.
“BUT IT’S NOT! IT’S TIME TO GO!” I yelled, my voice shaking with fear.
All the kids climbed down, dragging their feet as they followed me.
I looked back at the tree one more time.
The pumpkin man had disappeared. Again.
Back on the trail, I tried to backtrack our way home… but everything seemed to keep changing, twisting, making me more and more confused.
The boys were starting to get tired and grumpy.
I knew we should have left.
We’re lost.
And we may never get back home.
I sat down to think and let my kids play by a small pond we’d found. My hands trembled as I stared at the ground.
How are we going to get home?
I started to weep but forced myself to stop.
Then I felt it — something behind me.
And then I heard it, a low voice:
“You’re running out of time… find the path that takes you home.”
I quickly spun around, but all I saw was the trail.
Nothing else.
What was that?
What path? Where do we go…
I jumped up, scared, about to shout, but something fell on my head from above.
I looked around to find out what it was. After searching for a few minutes, I found the third sign.
“Paths will change and time will slip,
Hold your children, do not trip.
The way you seek is hard to see,
But water always leads to the tree.”
“What is up with these riddles?!” I sighed and sat back down, trying to think.
“The water leads to the tree?” I muttered. “Does that mean… follow the water?”
“Why is this so hard,” I groaned, banging my fist on the bench.
The sound caught the attention of my children. They all looked at me with worry in their eyes.
“Mom… we aren’t okay, are we?” Mya said, tears welling up in her eyes.
“No,” I whispered. “We are lost… but I think we have to follow the water.”
We were on a mission now. We had to get home.
We followed the water, but something was also following us.
Deep in the shadows, there was something there — something we couldn’t see… but we could feel it.
The trees started to tremble, as if they knew something dangerous was near.
“Mom… is it time to go home yet?” Juju asked, tears welling in his eyes.
“Almost, baby,” I whispered.
We walked as fast as we could, holding hands and staying close. The fear we felt was obvious.
Then… a murmur.
“Run with haste, don’t wait to roam,
The closing door will block the way home.
When the shadows meet the light,
Be through the door before the night.”
I didn’t think. I didn’t wait.
I scooped up Isaiah and screamed, “RUN!”
The kids and I ran. We didn’t stop until the path ended — and there it was.
The door.
But…
The pumpkin man was blocking our way.
The pumpkin man’s eyes glowed bright red, with vines stretching out like wild hair.
I was frozen in fear.
Until I heard my son yell, “Don’t worry, Mom! I’ll get him!”
Ishaan charged at the man without an ounce of fear.
I ran — desperate to save my baby from the danger ahead.
But I was too late.
The pumpkin man snatched him up with his long, twisting vine and shook him like it was nothing.
I dropped to my knees and cried.
“Please… let us go!” I screamed, my voice cracking. “Please, just let us go!”
The pumpkin man tilted his head, his glowing eyes narrowing.
“But I will be lonely… you must stay,”
he said, his voice deep and hollow.
Then he started to walk toward us, his heavy steps echoing against the dirt path.
Behind him, five jack-o’-lanterns flickered to life, their carved mouths whispering in unison:
“You must stay… you must stay…”
Me, Mya, Isaiah, and Juju started to cry. We huddled together, about to give up, when we heard a familiar voice.
“Hello? Are you guys in here? I didn’t see y’all for trick-or-treating. I was worried, so I came in. Hope you don’t mind.”
I looked toward the voice — it was Mrs. Lilly!
How did she find us?!
“Mrs. Lilly, help!” I screamed.
The man tossed Ishaan like a doll. Somehow, by some miracle, I managed to catch him in my arms.
The pumpkin man dashed toward Mrs. Lilly, fury burning in his glowing red eyes.
“Run!” I yelled, but Mrs. Lilly stood her ground.
“YOU DON’T SCARE ME!” she roared.
Then, out of her pocket, she pulled a vine.
Confused, I froze, clutching Ishaan, as hope grew wildly inside me. Maybe… just maybe…
We are going home.
Mrs. Lilly whipped the vine at the pumpkin man. He roared, the sound shaking the ground, and stepped toward her.
“You can’t win,” he warned, his voice deep and hollow.
Then, out of nowhere, the pumpkins started to roll across the ground, glowing brighter.
And then… they grew bodies.
They rushed us, knocking us down before we had a chance to run. Mrs. Lilly fought, but she was no match.
We went down easily, and the door slammed shut.
Then the pumpkins spoke together, their voices hollow and cold:
“You should have gone when the shadows warned,
Now the tree and time are torn.
Each step you take will circle round,
For home is lost, it can’t be found.”
I knew then — we had lost.
All I could do was cry.
The pumpkin man brought out six jack-o’-lanterns and placed them in a line, their eerie glow reflecting in my tears.
Then came the last thing I heard, the voice low and final:
“Lonely no more, the wait is done,
My home is full, my game is won.
The door is closed, the key is gone,
Here with me, you now belong.”
random rambles 
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