Halloween Ghost Story Contest -- 2003
Middle School Winners

First Place

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Our first place Middle School winner is Sara Mercuro. Ms. Mercuro was also a winner last year.

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Dreaming of Red Eyes

by
Sara Mercuro

Eyes snapped open. They were not surely his own, but they were eyes nonetheless. He wasn't certain where the eyes were... in his mind, in the closet... or under his bed.

Is that seriously something you would expect a three year old to know?

Sammuel Haydayn pulled the sheets around him. His small eyes were looking for the other pair he had seen just moments ago. Sam had seen them -- of that he was sure. They were red eyes, furious eyes, that had been burned into his mind. They eyes flashed to him again, furious red eyes.

Sammuel Haydayn was scared. Who could blame him? He was three years old, alone, in a bed, in his room, in his house and not to mention it at was nighttime.

Did nighttime really matter? It mattered in the world of the small, the small universe of a child and it mattered especially to Sam. It was the time of the night, when all your fears were ten times larger than you were. The dark magic of the night could turn nothing into something. It could make a near silent sweep of the wind turn into a loud boom that echoed through your body and back. The night bewitched and ensared the minds of the young, turning the night into a time of horrors.

Sam got out of bed, slowly, as not to make a sound, for who knew what he could awake, or what he had already awoken, just by his very presence there. To a daytime ear, the sound of slipper against the wood would be inaudible. The nighttime ear, however, had an entirely different standard. To Sam, every sound he made, every step he took, every breath he drew...was a space closer to danger.

A space closer to the horrors of the night.

A space closer, was a whole lot closer than Sam wanted to be. However, as was sometimes said "the closer to danger, the farther from harm." His parents' room was downstairs, just beyond the kitchen, if he could make it that far. Sam would be brave. He would be brave like his big brother, Jake was.

Sam opened the window, the wind blew in his face, bluring his eyes with tears -- making the scenery appear to be of a watercolor painting. Sam closed the window in a flash, when he saw the eyes glaring at him from in between the hedges.

Bravery can only take you so far... in the night.

Sam was a very courageous little three year old. After all, he had gone down the big slide. He even ate his sisters new flavor of pizza (which wasn't much of an acomplishment, since Sam wasn't a very picky three year old). The setting of the sun, however, could turn the bravest of kids, to crying cowards.

Sam stopped his advancement down the hall to peer into the living room. He didn't dare wander in there. Not with those furious red eyes watching him. He could see the remains of his afternoon snack, and a half finished Candyland game he had begun with his sister (teaming up with his mother of course). Even as they items sat there, Sam couldn't go in. He didn't dare to.

Sam swore he saw a flash of something as he continued to walk down the hall, a blur of something -- a robber, a monster...or perhaps his sister, Abby, going to get a drink.

No, Abby didn't have red eyes. She had blue eyes like he did, and red hair, like his.

Be that as it may, anything can happen in the night.

Possibly, Abby had been possesed, like in those movies Jake loved to watch when Mom had taken Sam out of the room. A vampire, a vampire could've gotten her. Sam would know of course. He had been a vampire last Halloween.

He hadn't bitten anyone. Then again, he didn't have to.

Sam nervously walked into the kitchen, trying to avoid things that go bump in the night. He could hear the drip, drip of the faucet as if it was a storm and his feet, starring as the thunder. To top it all off. Sam could hear his heart beat, louder, harder and faster than the fierce thundering of his feet.

"Not much farther", the three year old told himself, "just across the kitchen." Even so, Sam could practically see those red eyes creeping right beside his parent's doorway. If he moved any closer they would get him.

Then he heard a stomp. It was here. STOMP! It was coming. STOMP! It was coming for him.

Sam did what any normal three year old would do in the same situation. He screamed as loud as he possibly could, standing rooted to the spot, unable to move a muscle. As brave as Sam was, he couldn't take it anymore. He needed some kind of relief. In the form of his mommy or daddy.

"Sammuel Haydayn!" he could hear his mother yell while getting out of bed. Sam quickly clung to his mother like a baby koala. His mother sighed and took him back into her own room, muttering about small children and meaningless fears. Sam snuggled up in bed next to his parents and fell into a peaceful sleep.

Then, at long last, the sun rose.

At long last, Sam was safe.

Sam was safe... at least until the next sun sets.

He was safe, until the red eyes came out to play once more.

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