Halloween.
Where have the days gone where I dressed as a witch and went from door to door?
Too old for that now.
If a zombie,
vampire,
or any form of ghoul,
decided to visit me tonight
I
wouldn't
even
flinch.
Because now phantoms come in the form of
finance pamphlets,
skeletons visit me disguised as
university prospectuses.
I quiver at the whispers of
"career choices" and
"moving out" and,
the ever looming,
satanic big one,
"The Future."
I use my duvet as a shield as if I was a child again,
shaking,
pleading,
"No, no, no",
only to be told
"Get out of bed, take some responsibility, grow up!"
Grow up.
I'd rather take on a werewolf.
I check for the monsters under the bed, only to find
they're my parents,
my tutor,
myself.
Please let me be that little witch again?