I gathered my bag when the last bell rang and left to meet Mom outside. She waited for me on the metal bench outside. She smiled when she saw me and stood.

“How was school?” She put her arm around me as we walked across the sidewalk into the street.

“Eh. It was okay.” I picked at my thumbnail.

Her eyebrows drew together. “You alright?”

“Yeah, um,” I walked a little faster than her. “Ms. Bailey gave us these pamphlet things for a Halloween festival.”

She jerked her head back. “Here?”

“No, it’s in Belmon.” I took a deep breath and talked fast. “Ms. Bailey said we had to get a permission slip signed to enter the raffle, and I was hoping you’d sign mine. Just for show,” I added quickly.

Mom was quiet, so I waited, but I was losing hope.

“We’ll see.”

I still wasn’t used to calling this place “home.” It was stiff and boxy, bright white with black shutters and a green door. Nothing like my old house. I missed my window, reading nook, books, and plants.

I followed Mom through the front door, and when we passed the kitchen, she asked if I wanted cocoa. I said yes, and walked the stairs up to my room shivering. I climbed on my white twin bed and wrapped my blanket around me. I pulled Dealing with Spirits from my bag. Homework could wait.

There was no mention of attachment to an item. Not yet anyway. I rubbed my face, and Mom knocked on the door. I slammed the book shut and slid it into my bag. “Come in.” Mom tiptoed in with two mugs of cocoa on a tray. She sat at the end of my bed and handed me a mug.

“Careful!” she held out her hand as if to catch it. “Don’t spill it.”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” I said monotone, but with a smile. I smelled the sweet chocolate, and the steam warmed my face.

“Seriously, could you just sign that slip for me?” I gave her a sheepish smile. She deflated. “It’s not that I wanna go, it’s…”

“The boys?” her face pinched.

I concentrated on my plain-white bed sheets and nodded. It was dead silent for a minute and she took a deep breath. “Well, I had an idea for this year.” She re-adjusted herself. “I was thinking,” she smiled, “we could make popcorn, build a cozy fort, and watch movies together on Halloween.”

“Really?” I chuckled. “Why?”

“Why not? It’ll be fun! We could maybe get things back on track.”

I pinned my arm against my stomach. We used to do those things before Morrigan came. I faked a smile and nodded, but it had been almost a year now. If it hadn’t gone back to normal by now, I didn’t think it ever would.

“Alright, tomorrow we can get some stuff.” She smiled. “You okay?”

“Yeah, but if I show up at school tomorrow without the signed slip, they’ll laugh at me.” I knew she didn’t want me to go anywhere, but it was only for show. I thought she’d understand.

She wrapped her arms around me in my blanket burrito and put her head on mine. “Don’t worry about them. They're gonna go and get scared, have nightmares, eat too much candy, and get sick. Then they’ll come home and wish they never went. They’ll be too worried about themselves to think about whether you got yours signed.”

I nodded, but I knew it wasn’t true. I couldn’t go to school without a signed slip, and I didn’t have anyone else to sign it for me. Signing it myself was an option, but I’d never done that before, and I could get in so much trouble. What if Mom banned me from reading or something, and then I couldn’t read this spirit book for a month?

But it had to be signed, and this book wasn’t very helpful—not yet anyway. How hard could it be? Adults just scribbled their names, right? I’d sign it in the morning.

***

My alarm went off and my stomach soured. I wiped the blur from my eyes, got dressed before pulling the slip from my bag, and took it to the beat-up dresser that came with the house. I pushed away my journals and pulled a pen from the spiral.

I stared at the line. What did Mom’s signature even look like? I opened a journal and practiced scribbling her name a few times. Three knocks on my door made me jump.

“Emily, you awake?”

I swallowed. “Yeah, gimme a minute,” I called out and checked the time on my pocket watch. I’d usually be ready by now.

I pressed the pen to the line and made a messy scribble—it looked horrible. I squeezed the pen. This was just… an illusion. It would pass as a signed slip, and that was all I needed. I slid it into my folder and back into my bag.

Everyone had their forms on their desk when I got to class. The room was livelier than usual, and they were talking about Halloween. Full Moon Festival was written in cursive on the whiteboard. Ms. Bailey picked up a black top hat from her desk.

“Alright, give me your signed permission slips, and I’ll hand you an entry.” She was quieter than usual. Maybe the teachers still disagreed with her about passing these out.

“I can call out a few extra in my class because some of the other teachers aren’t handing these out.”

“Why not?” Leah asked from the front left desk.

“They don’t agree with Halloween. You know how they can be about that.”

“Yeah, lame.” Leah grinned. “Just because there was this major accident caused by someone who lived here doesn’t mean they did it on purpose. Like, way to hold a grudge and ruin everyone’s fun.”

Ms. Bailey smiled. She never forced her opinions on us.

“Dude,” Jackson said, “a lot of people went missing, and maybe even died. You can’t just brush that off and call it a grudge when people are upset about it.”

Leah pursed her lips.

“Great arguments, you two. Got your slips?” Mrs. Bailey asked when she reached them.

I reached into my bag and pulled out my folder, but no one was looking. I shifted in my seat and cleared my throat, lifting the slip up as if I were reading it.

“What?! Emily got hers signed?” Marco said, and out of the corner of my eye, but Austin… smiled? I hadn’t expected that.

I grinned, too satisfied to hold it in, and chatter picked up around the room. Ms. Bailey handed out small strips of paper. They wrote their names, folded the paper, and tossed them into the hat.

She got to me and smiled when she saw my slip. “Good for you, Emily.” She whispered and handed me a piece of paper. I stared at it for a second. If I put my name in there, I could be called. Could I toss it in blank? If she drew a blank one, they’d know it was me. This was so stupid. I wrote my name, folded it, and held it for a second. It crumpled in my hand. Please don’t call on me. I threw it in the hat. She smiled and walked up to the front of the class.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“Okay, where’s the blindfold?” She looked around her desk, then picked it up. “Does someone wanna swish the names around?”

Hands shot up and kids called out. She looked past Austin and his friends and called on Jason, one of the more trustworthy kids, and he joined her.

“Okay, go ahead.” She put her blindfold on, and he reached into the hat. His whole arm fit and he swished them around. The papers rustled and toppled over when he pulled his arm out. He smiled and went back to his seat.

“Thank you.” Ms. Bailey cleared her throat. “Ready?”

“Yeah!” They cheered.

I stared outside, wishing I could read my spirit book instead.

“The first winner is…” she unfolded the paper. “Leah!”

The class clapped for her, and the papers swished again. “The next one is…” she chuckled, “Austin.” She rolled her eyes, smiling. Some kids clapped again. “Did you put multiple entries in here?” She squinted at him with her arms crossed.

He lifted his arms and looked around the class, like “Why me?” and everyone laughed.

“I’m joking.” Ms. Bailey smiled and put the blindfold back on. “Last one…”

The papers swished, then silence. Her face fell, and she mumbled, “Emily.”

No. My heart dropped.

Austin burst out laughing, and his friends followed.

She wasn’t supposed to call me. I had to be sick that day. What should I say? My skin burned and everyone stared at me.

Ms. Bailey cleared her throat. “Congratulations to everyone who got called. I know you’ll have a wonderful time. Be good, I’m gonna go get your tickets printed.” She glanced at me, and the corners of her lips turned down.

My hands shook. Everybody wanted this, right? I could just give mine to someone else.

After about fifteen minutes, Ms. Bailey came back and handed out the tickets. When she reached me, she gave me a suspicious look. Did she know? She handed me the ticket and my heart dropped. It was printed on thick, orange and black paper like a formal invitation—with my full name printed on it.

***

I trudged down the hallway, staring at my ticket as everybody bustled by for lunch break. What would Mom say? What if I “lost” it? I’d need to make sure no one could find it and give it back to me.

When I looked up, I almost ran into the trash can that led down the ramp to the cafeteria. I stepped back and realized I couldn’t easily see in there because of the lid shape. I clutched my ticket and hovered over the opening. But it was such a waste to throw it away.

“Hey!” someone called.

I jerked back and turned. Some kid with a cast on his arm laughed and pointed at my ticket. “You were about to throw that away!” He turned to his friends. “We knew she wasn’t gonna go. She’s a scaredy-cat.”

My heart pounded in my ears. “I wasn’t gonna throw it away, I was just… walking by.” If they thought I was still too scared to go, there was no point in even entering my name.

They kept laughing as they passed me down the ramp.

At least scaredy-cats didn’t do stupid things and wind up with their arm in a cast, I thought. The library printed everything, so Mrs. Willows could help. I peeked into the trash again, itching to throw it away, but something else caught my eye—a bunch of ripped-up sheets of paper, one with the word spirits.

No one was looking, so I plucked out all the ripped pieces and slid them into my journal folder. After a quick lunch alone, I rushed to the library.

Mrs. Willows sat at the front desk, ruffling papers and licking her thumb.

“Mrs. Willows?”

She looked up and smiled. She had frizzy gray hair and a white streak at the front. “Hey, Emily! Looking for the new,” she licked her lips, pointed up, and spun her finger near her head, “Oh! Detective Penny book?”

The library was pretty empty, but I whispered anyway. “No ma’am, I—there’s a new Detective Penny book out?”

She nodded, “I think so.” Her fingers flew across her keyboard as she squinted and leaned close to her screen.

“Actually, I’m here because I got picked for the festival, but I don’t wanna go. And it feels like a waste to throw the ticket away.”

“Aww,” she shook her head, “I’m sorry, dear, but we’re not pulling tickets or printing new ones anymore.” She got up from her seat and walked to an aisle.

“W-why not?” I asked. “Ms. Bailey just finished printing ours.”

She shook her head again and scanned the shelf. “Everyone’s name has already been entered into the system. Any changes would allow others to make changes or ask for more tickets, make exceptions.” She waved her hand in the air. “It’s too much to deal with.” She tapped a couple of book spines.

I sighed.

“May I ask,” she craned her neck at a higher shelf, “if you didn’t want to go, why’d you enter your name?” She pulled a book from the shelf and adjusted her glasses to look at it.

“I—” I shrugged as she glanced over her glasses at me.

“Well,” she cocked her head, “just don’t go.” She smiled. “It’s not a waste.” And she handed me the book.

I got chills. There was a new Detective Penny book! I usually kept up with that. “Thank you so much!” I smiled, staring at the cover. Penny had her usual trench coat and pocket watch as she stood in front of a mansion.

Ms. Bailey walked into the library. “I thought I’d find you here.” She joined us at the shelf, then pulled out my permission slip. “Did you sign this yourself?”

My stomach sank, and I couldn’t look her in the eye.

“Emily,” she said softly, “I can’t let you go unless your mom says it’s okay. I’m gonna have to call her for permission.”

My shoulders slumped. “Please don’t call her, I’ll tell her myself later. I don’t even know what to do with this ticket.” I slapped it with the back of my hand. “The only reason I signed the form was because—”

“I know.” She put her hand on my shoulder. “Let’s sit.” She led us to a table.

It was silent for a minute before I said, “I don’t like monsters and spirits and stuff like that. I don’t like being scared like they do.” I crossed my arms.

She smiled. “I understand that. No one really likes to be scared. I think it’s more that they’re happy to be alive. Does that make sense?” Her face scrunched up.

I shook my head.

“Well,” she talked with her hands, “they get scared initially, then they’re relieved because they’re alive and not actually in danger.”

“But what about that makes it fun?”

She chuckled, and it made me smile. “Don’t feel like you have to go just because the other kids don’t understand you.”

I nodded. “If I do have to go, I just want some food and candy and maybe a tiny bit of the less scary atmosphere.” I pinched my fingers close and closed one eye.

She smiled. “That does sound like fun, and I’ve heard their pumpkin pie is amazing.”

“Have you ever been?”

“No.” She answered right away, then she laughed to herself. “I’m not into scary things either.”

But she was old. Didn’t older people get used to those things? “Does that mean I’ll never stop being scared?”

Her face got serious. “I think… it’s important to realize that they’re just fears. You don’t have to let them control whether you do something.”

That didn’t make sense. We were afraid of things for a reason. For survival. And maybe if I had more fear, we wouldn’t have had to deal with Morrigan. But she was trying to make me feel better, so I smiled and nodded. Although, the conversation from the break room still bothered me.

“I couldn’t help but overhear earlier.”

She gave a tight smile.

“You’re trying to get the counselor job?”

“I am.”

“Would you still be our teacher?”

“Of course! I would be available after school.” She glanced at the table and lost her smile.

“But you’re not happy about it?”

She looked surprised. “I am. I just…” she shook her head. “We all have our own issues, you know? I sometimes wonder if I’m even the right person to counsel someone else.” She scrunched her nose.

My jaw dropped. “If anyone should be the counselor, it should be you! You know us best and you’re the only one who listens to us.”

Her smile returned. “That’s nice of you to say.”

“It’s true.” I had talked to her about Morrigan before. That’s when Mom freaked out and said not to tell anyone else. She thought I’d get taken away from her.

She stared out the window, lost in thought for a minute, then glanced at my ticket on the table. “I’ll help you with your mom any way I can. But Emily, you have to realize you did this yourself and now you need to take responsibility.”

I sighed and nodded. Just because she’d be the counselor didn’t mean she would sugar-coat things.

“Good luck, okay?” She winked and left our table.

How would I tell Mom, and how was she gonna punish me? I wrote some ideas in my journal. Sometimes it helped to write it out, but when I went to put it away, a small piece of ripped paper dropped to the table.