Sorting Halloween

Flash Fiction

Sorting Halloween

“You don’t scare me,” Dan said not even looking up from the TV.

“You didn’t even look!” Frankie said.

“But I heard the noise as you were supposedly sneaking up on me.”

“So, I need to do that quieter…”

“And now that I look at you… what are you supposed to be?”

“A dead person! See my face is dirty and my clothes are all ripped…”

“Yeah, Mom’s gonna love that. Why would that make you dead?”

“Well, then I was gonna groan and stuff…”

You gotta have a decent death to be a dead person. Most people don’t die of dirty clothes and dirty faces…”

“Oh. Well, I don’t have a lot of knowledge about being dead, having only been alive for a few years…”

“You just need to think about what would seem scary to you.”

“Like what?”

“How did your dead person get dead? Car crash, fall out a window, run down by a train, shot?”

“What about old age?”

“How old, your nine…”

“A hundred?”

“Would a hundred-year-old be scary? I don’t think so. Try grown-up. You croaked. How? Big accident? Massive disease? Head bitten off my an allegator?”

“I think I need my head…” Frankie said walking out.

Ten minutes later: “Help! Help!” Frankie ran into the room covered with blood! I chopped too close! I might lose my arm!”

He stood there barely able to stand, blood all down his clothes and holding his arm, his left-hand dripping with blood!

Dan jumped up, “What happened? Mom!!! Dad!!! Help!!! Frankie is hurt!”

They both ran in, “What happened!” But then they both started giggling…

“He’s hurt! Why are you laughing?”

Then Frankie giggled too. “Is this more Halloweeny?” he said.

Dan almost fainted.

It was a very scary Halloween that year, at the Henderson’s house!