The small child shivered. The glass felt cold and slick as her finger followed the rain that drizzled down the window. Above her, the wind howled, and the sky thundered. A single tear slid down her cheek. Her spirit matched the gloom of the outside world. With the back of her hand, she wiped away the offending teardrop, along with the green face paint that went along with her witch’s costume.

There would be no Halloween night for her, not with weather like this. Saddened, she knew her parents wouldn’t allow her to join the parade of trick-or-treaters even if it hadn’t been raining. It was always the same—year after year. While children eagerly rang their door bell, and boisterously shouted, Trick or Treat, she would sit by the window and peek through the curtains.

She tried once to answer the door, but her mother said it was too cold, she’d catch a draft, and that it would cause too much excitement. Didn’t her mother know she wanted excitement? That she needed it?

A loud clap echoed overhead as she watched the sky light up once more. Tonight was the biggest trick of all. No one would ring their bell. No merry chants or smiling faces. Her mother hadn’t even bothered to put candy in the big, plastic orange jack-o’-lantern that sat by the door.

She dropped her hands into her lap and smoothed the wrinkles out of her black, satin skirt. At least her mother had allowed her to dress up. Although, even that took a lot of pleading. Her mom said there was no point. Wouldn’t she rather have her pink pajamas with the white ponies? She tried to tell her mom they were unicorns, but her mother had already stopped listening.

With a heavy sigh, she lifted her hand and closed the curtain. Her mom was right. What was the point? The houses were dark, the street silent. There were no ghosts, goblins, or princesses in sight. Resting her hands on the wheels of her chair, she pushed back.

As she rolled across the hardwood floor, a light tap at the front door surprised her. Startled, she looked up. Glancing towards the den, the sound of the television played while her dad snored, her mother somewhere upstairs. What if just this once she answered the door?

With one last glance over her shoulder, she turned her chair. As quietly as she could, she wheeled over to the door and placed her hand on the knob…





I hope you enjoy this new segment of my blog.  To download a .pdf copy of this story starter, please click here. Whether you try the starter yourself, or with your child/students, I always appreciate a good ending! Please feel free to include your outcome in the comment section below or submit your child/students work via email. I can’t wait to see where your (or their) imagination leads…

Happy writing,

K. Lamb