Young Sarah moved through silent streets
Slowly from home to home
“Trick or treat” she coyly asked
Before heading off again alone

Her bag was filled with goodies
But her head was filled with fear
Her footsteps echoed on empty streets
Were they screams that she could hear?

Then up out from the bushes
A hissing black cat flew
Sarah jumped up ten feet high
Her fear and worry grew

She was sure up in the distance
In the house they called “Hell Hill”
She saw the lights flick on and off
The screaming continued still

Terrified of what lay ahead
She continued on her way
Trying to be brave
And not let rumours block her way

Finally she reached the gate
She stopped to gasp for air
“Hell Hill” looked twice as evil
Looking up from way down there

She summoned all her courage
Continued up the drive
She reached the door, rang the bell
Wondered if she would survive

She could hear the footsteps coming
Shuffling slowly down the hall
The doorknob started turning
She puffed her chest and stood up tall

Slowly the door creaked open
She held her eyes shut tight
Opening one and then the other
To an unexpected sight.

For the frail old lady standing there
Was not what she thought she’d see
“Trick or treat” young Sarah asked
The frail old lady smiled with glee

Young lady you have warmed my heart
By visiting my home
I hear that young people are scared to come
So forever I am alone

It has really touched my heart
That you ignored those stories told
For rumours hurt so many
In a world so grim and cold

“Trick or Treat” you asked ne
And a treat for you is due
As you can see I’m old an frail
My time is limited with you

But if you come to visit me
While I live out my last days
My house they call “hell Hill’
Will be yours in future days

With those words young Sarah
Headed back off to her home
Although her treat bag was no fuller
She had gained the greatest thing she’d known

For it wasn’t the house that mattered
It was the lesson that she’d gained
That listening to rumours
Can stop friendships being made.

Elise L Turnedge
31 Oct 1999