After a long business trip, all I wanted was to get home and enjoy Halloween night. But as I walked onto my quiet street, I noticed something strange across the way. It turns out Halloween had one last surprise waiting for me.
Halloween is my favorite holiday, hands down. Some people get really excited about Christmas or Easter, but for me, Halloween has a magic all its own. I’m 32, single, and recently divorced. My job keeps me busy, and I don’t have much time for hobbies or extra fun.
After a long business trip, all I wanted was to get home and enjoy Halloween night. But when I stepped onto my quiet street, I noticed something strange across the way. Halloween had one last surprise for me.
Halloween is my favorite holiday. Some people go all out for Christmas, but for me, Halloween is the best. I’m 32, single, recently divorced, and my job keeps me pretty busy. I don’t have a lot of hobbies, but I do have Halloween.
Every year, I go all out. I’m talking graveyard scenes, life-sized skeletons, lights, fog machines—the works. I start planning in August to make my house the spookiest on the block. For years, it’s worked. My house has become known as the “Haunted House on Thatcher Street.” People drive by just to see it, and it makes me feel like I’m bringing a bit of Halloween magic to the neighborhood.
But this year, life threw me a curveball. Just a week before Halloween, my boss told me, “You need to fly to Boston tomorrow.” It was a last-minute business trip. I was so frustrated, but there was no way out of it. Before I left, I took one last look at my yard—a giant spider web, spooky inflatables, and lights all set up in a haunted graveyard scene. I hoped the neighbors would enjoy it while I was gone.
Then, by some miracle, I got to come home early, landing right on Halloween afternoon. I was thrilled, imagining myself handing out candy to the kids in their costumes. But when I got home, something was off. My house looked completely bare.
I glanced across the street and saw it: my skeletons, tombstones, my inflatable pumpkin, and right in the center of my neighbor’s yard was my giant 8-foot spider staring back at me.
I took a deep breath and told myself to stay calm. Kids were running around the street, and the last thing I wanted was to cause a scene. But there it was—all of my decorations, right in her yard.
As the sun went down, the orange glow of my lights lit up her yard. It was like I was seeing a twisted version of my own Halloween setup. Every now and then, I peeked out the window to watch as her house filled up with kids and their parents, complimenting her spooky yard.
I wanted to march over there and demand my decorations back, but I knew I had to be smarter about it.
Around midnight, the street grew quiet as Halloween came to an end. My neighbor’s house went dark, and I watched as her last visitors left, waving goodbye as they walked down the street.
This was my chance.
I didn’t wait until morning; I couldn’t sleep with the thought of my decorations across the street. I grabbed my keys, put on my jacket, and went to the 24-hour convenience store. Inside, I headed straight for the paint aisle and picked out a few cans of bright red and glossy black spray paint.
Back on my street, everything was silent. I took one last look to make sure no one was watching, then quietly crossed over to her yard. My heart was pounding as I approached her white fence, holding the spray can in my hand. I took a deep breath, shook the can, and sprayed big red letters across her fence:
“I STEAL MY NEIGHBOR’S DECORATIONS TO WIN THE BEST HOUSE PRIZE!”
I grinned, feeling a rush of satisfaction. It was bold, just like her move. I added some dripping paint lines to make it look dramatic, like the words were bleeding.
Just as I finished, a light flicked on inside her house. My stomach dropped, and I ducked down, clutching the paint can close. She walked to the kitchen but didn’t look outside, so I let out a sigh of relief and snuck back to my own yard.
The next morning, I watched from my window, sipping my coffee and feeling pleased with my handiwork. The bright red message was still there on her fence. Soon, a group of judges from the neighborhood council strolled down the street, clipboards in hand, looking at each decorated house.
They stopped in front of her house, and I saw their confused faces as they read the message on her fence. One of them even snorted, covering a laugh with his hand.
Sandra, my neighbor, saw them too and threw me a horrified look from her window. I gave her a small wave and a smile.
The judges moved on to my place. They took notes, and one of them, Mrs. Delaney, came over to me. “Your dedication to Halloween is remarkable,” she said with a knowing smile. “Sandra’s decorations were nice—until we learned they were yours!” She winked.
I grinned and shrugged. “Halloween means a lot to me. I just wanted to give the neighborhood something spooky and memorable.”
Mrs. Delaney laughed. “Well, you certainly did. I think it’s safe to say you’ve earned the Best Decorated House award this year. Sandra’s fence really… added something, didn’t it?”
I nodded, holding back laughter. “I guess you could say it was a collaborative effort.”
Just then, Sandra stormed out, red-faced and furious. “This is absurd!” she shouted, pointing at me. “She vandalized my property!”
One of the judges raised an eyebrow and asked, “Did you actually take her decorations?”
Sandra opened her mouth but couldn’t answer. She folded her arms and glared at me. “I thought she wouldn’t mind,” she mumbled.
“Well,” Mrs. Delaney said, “you’ve learned a little lesson about asking permission. The prize goes to the rightful owner of the decorations.” She gave me a nod of approval.
Sandra stomped her foot and glared at me, but the group had already moved on.
I just shrugged and gave her a smile. “Happy Halloween, Sandra.”
With that, I turned back to my house, savoring every moment.
