A Bone To Pick

• Annika Riseley, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2016

If only you knew the troubles I face. You would know what panic feels like, you would Know what anger feels like. You would know what fear feels like. This is my life. You can choose to believe that this is some fictional novel you bought at the shops. That's entirely up to you, not me. I chose to believe in the impossible a long time ago...look where that got me. It was October 31st, a stormy night to my misfortune. I wonder if I'm crazy, of course I am. I fight monsters for a living and I...where was I? Oh yes, it was a stormy night to my misfortune. I was determined to pull of one simple trick. Even a stupid joke would satisfy at this point.
Why didn't the skeleton go to the dance?
He had no body to go with.
See? This is what I was reduced to. Thank god it's Halloween. The sky cracks and booms with the sound of thunder. My mother's rag doll cat jumps two feet in the air and runs off. I laugh and continue planning. Maybe I should just give up, call it a night, surrender, concede defeat and capitulate. I plop myself down on the couch and turn on the television. I'm met by Dracula the suckiest black and white film of all time (no pun intended). I decide to watch it. Frankenstein can't be any better anyway. Five minutes into the film I realise something, I can't give up like this. Without at least trying. I look over at my mother's antique, vintage, limited addition rose clock. I can't believe I know that. I spring up and grab my Jasper & Maine brown leather satchel (messenger bag). Again, why do I know that? When I get home I need to get my priorities in order. "I'm going out!" I yell to my mother as I race out the door. She won't mind if I pop out for a bit, will she? ... ... ... Nah. I run to my creepy next door neighbour's house. It's an eerie vintage looking mansion, two storeys or more. I heard that the man that lives here killed his wife and daughter; no one knows why he just did. No one has actually seen him, but someone said they did, they gave us all a clue...what was it again? I suppose it doesn't matter. I waltz up to his front door and ring the bell. A deep bell sound echoes through the house making me eerie of my decision to do this. Maybe this was a mistake; I turn to leave just as a cold hand touches my shoulder. The rain maybe. I turn and see a skeleton. I jump three feet back, he moves towards me. He points one of his white, bony fingers at me. What is he? His empty sockets and his gritted teeth and his round skull. Well I know he's a skeleton, but what is happening?