the comforter. Walking back to flick on the light I listened again for my parents, but they didn’t stir. Perhaps they were dreaming of sheep?
My stomach growled out loud and I quietly clicked my door shut and brought the bag of food over to my desk. I pulled out fresh spring rolls and crispy tofu with peanut sauce and was suddenly ravenous. I couldn’t remember the last time I ate anything other than trail mix. Pictures of dead wolves and the smell of burning brownies had a tendency to make me lose my appetite.
Stomach appeased, I turned to the pile of books on my bed. One cover had a charcoal sketch of a brooding spirit gazing out from the cover. “Don’t look at me like that,” I muttered, deciding to read that one last. I picked a smaller book with Celtic knotwork and vines on the cover and set it on the nightstand. Lifting the rest to the floor, I plunked down on the bed and unlaced my boots. I leaned back against the headboard and settled in for a long night of reading.
*****
At some point in the night I must have drifted off to sleep because I now stood in an unfamiliar fog shrouded forest. The mist covered ground made walking treacherous. Roots grasped at my feet and ankles and cobwebs clung to my face and hair. What was this place?
I tried not to wonder what was hiding in the darkness. It wasn’t working. My mind conjured up images of nightmare creatures and I began to run. My logical mind screamed that running was a bad idea and would only attract the attention of lurking monsters, but my feet flew across the fog covered ground. I ran and ran until I tripped and fell face first into water.
Flailing in the water I awoke wrestling with my sheets and gasping for breath. I tried to remember any details from the dream which may have been important. I hadn’t been visited by any spirit guides. Maybe it had just been a regular nightmare brought on by stress. The feeling of terror clung to me though, and I reached for my notes on warding off evil spirits. Looks like I was going to have to go carve myself a turnip. Seriously, don’t ask.
Giving up on sleep entirely I slid on my skelly slippers and crept downstairs to the kitchen. I looked through the pantry shelves and refrigerator drawers, but didn’t turn up any turnips. My sleep deprived brain seemed to be turning to bad puns for amusement. Fun, fun, fun. Glancing around the kitchen my gaze fell on a bowl of decorative gourds. Bingo.
The book I read on spirit wards claimed people would carve turnips or gourds with faces to confuse evil spirits. On Samhain they would light these curiously carved veggies with candles and either carry them or set them in their windows for protection.
I selected a few small gourds and began carving faces. When my mom padded into the kitchen an hour later I was putting on the finishing touches.
“You’re up early sweetie,” she said, stifling a yawn. “Big day at school?”
“Halloween art project,” I replied. “I kind of forgot about it until last minute. Hope you don’t mind I used some of your gourds,” I said gesturing to the nearly empty bowl. “I’ll buy some new ones today after school. I promise.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” she said, waving her hand in the air. “I’m just glad someone gets to enjoy them. We’re hardly ever home lately anyway.”
“Thanks mom,” I said. “Want me to put the coffee on?
“That sounds lovely, but first what is the dark green one supposed to be?” she asked. “A spider?”
“Yeah,” I answered excitedly. “Look, I made a little harness so he can sit on my shoulder. See, like this. His legs dangle and bounce around. Isn’t he cute?”
“He’s adorable,” she said, smiling. “Now where’s that coffee?”
“Coming right up!” I said.
I wore my spider the entire time and purposefully made the legs bounce and swing around as I reached for the mugs and ground the beans, which made my mom laugh. It looked like my little friend really could scare away evil
My stomach growled out loud and I quietly clicked my door shut and brought the bag of food over to my desk. I pulled out fresh spring rolls and crispy tofu with peanut sauce and was suddenly ravenous. I couldn’t remember the last time I ate anything other than trail mix. Pictures of dead wolves and the smell of burning brownies had a tendency to make me lose my appetite.
Stomach appeased, I turned to the pile of books on my bed. One cover had a charcoal sketch of a brooding spirit gazing out from the cover. “Don’t look at me like that,” I muttered, deciding to read that one last. I picked a smaller book with Celtic knotwork and vines on the cover and set it on the nightstand. Lifting the rest to the floor, I plunked down on the bed and unlaced my boots. I leaned back against the headboard and settled in for a long night of reading.
*****
At some point in the night I must have drifted off to sleep because I now stood in an unfamiliar fog shrouded forest. The mist covered ground made walking treacherous. Roots grasped at my feet and ankles and cobwebs clung to my face and hair. What was this place?
I tried not to wonder what was hiding in the darkness. It wasn’t working. My mind conjured up images of nightmare creatures and I began to run. My logical mind screamed that running was a bad idea and would only attract the attention of lurking monsters, but my feet flew across the fog covered ground. I ran and ran until I tripped and fell face first into water.
Flailing in the water I awoke wrestling with my sheets and gasping for breath. I tried to remember any details from the dream which may have been important. I hadn’t been visited by any spirit guides. Maybe it had just been a regular nightmare brought on by stress. The feeling of terror clung to me though, and I reached for my notes on warding off evil spirits. Looks like I was going to have to go carve myself a turnip. Seriously, don’t ask.
Giving up on sleep entirely I slid on my skelly slippers and crept downstairs to the kitchen. I looked through the pantry shelves and refrigerator drawers, but didn’t turn up any turnips. My sleep deprived brain seemed to be turning to bad puns for amusement. Fun, fun, fun. Glancing around the kitchen my gaze fell on a bowl of decorative gourds. Bingo.
The book I read on spirit wards claimed people would carve turnips or gourds with faces to confuse evil spirits. On Samhain they would light these curiously carved veggies with candles and either carry them or set them in their windows for protection.
I selected a few small gourds and began carving faces. When my mom padded into the kitchen an hour later I was putting on the finishing touches.
“You’re up early sweetie,” she said, stifling a yawn. “Big day at school?”
“Halloween art project,” I replied. “I kind of forgot about it until last minute. Hope you don’t mind I used some of your gourds,” I said gesturing to the nearly empty bowl. “I’ll buy some new ones today after school. I promise.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” she said, waving her hand in the air. “I’m just glad someone gets to enjoy them. We’re hardly ever home lately anyway.”
“Thanks mom,” I said. “Want me to put the coffee on?
“That sounds lovely, but first what is the dark green one supposed to be?” she asked. “A spider?”
“Yeah,” I answered excitedly. “Look, I made a little harness so he can sit on my shoulder. See, like this. His legs dangle and bounce around. Isn’t he cute?”
“He’s adorable,” she said, smiling. “Now where’s that coffee?”
“Coming right up!” I said.
I wore my spider the entire time and purposefully made the legs bounce and swing around as I reached for the mugs and ground the beans, which made my mom laugh. It looked like my little friend really could scare away evil
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