WEP October Challenge - Dark Places

The WEP (Write, Edit, Publish) Challenge so generously hosted by Denise Covey and Yolanda Renee is back.  Olga Godim and Nilanjana Bose have joined the team, providing welcome support to the doughty duo and a wealth of ideas.

In October, the WEP dedicates the month to the fantasy, fun, and horror of Halloween.  This month the prompt is Dark Places - which gives us a LOT of scope.  We are asked to create something from the prompt - and can do so through fiction, non-fiction, photography...   Which leaves it wide open.

If you visit here and click on any names with a DL next to them you will be taken to some wonderful pieces.   Life and inadequacy have stopped me participating in the last few challenges but I have read all of the submissions with awe and wonder.  I will marvel at the other participant's skill, imagination and ingenuity this time too.  NB:  Our entries are to be posted on the 18th of October - which has arrived here.  However half of the world hasn't got there quite yet.  So please, don't discount those who don't have a DL following their name yet.  It will come, and a revisit is definitely worthwhile.

We don't really celebrate Halloween here in Australia (despite the best efforts of commercial entities to get us on board) so I am, as usual, out of my depth. 

Which hasn't stopped me.  There are definitely some quiet and sneaky dark corners in my mind.

Without further ado...

Prestwich is a small town.  A quiet town.  Some would dismiss it as an old-fashioned town.  Hard work, responsibility and respect for family and authority are its foundations and bed-rock.  I love my adopted home and will work hard to ensure it retains its values and traditions.

Halloween adds a frisson of excitement for us all.  A time when over-excited children (too often clad in inadequate and inappropriate costumes) romp in the chilly autumnal dusk.  As principal of the local school, I echo the local police and make it very clear that their parents or an older sibling should always be with them.  In the three years I have lived in Prestwich each year at Halloween at least one (two last year) of my more wayward students has gone missing, never to be seen again.

I have a lot to do before the first children arrive.  Preparedness and discipline define me.   My usual skirt and tailored jacket is replaced with sensible black woollen trousers and a matching warm sweatshirt.

I am good with my hands and make quick and expert work of the mandatory carved pumpkin head.  Screaming this year, with candles behind the eyes.  The children will expect and some will noisily demand 'treats'.  Healthy minds are only found in healthy bodies so I cannot in good conscience give them foods which are bad for them.  Turning the 'apple for the teacher' adage on its head I set out bowls of carefully polished apples, sugarless popcorn, a water jug and paper cups.  There is, of course, a receptacle for the waste.

No doubt some of them will not be happy, but they know better than to complain in my hearing.  They also know better than to play any tricks on me.

My house is my sanctuary, my fortress if you will, and I keep it private.  They will almost certainly not be invited inside.  Nevertheless, it is immaculately clean and tidy.  The pumpkin pulp is quickly whisked away and the knife washed, sharpened and replaced with the others gleaming in the knife block.  A place for everything and everything in its place. 

It was a very busy night and I saw an almost constant stream of laughing, chattering little devils, ghosts, vampires, clowns, zombies and witches.   All of them were polite, thanked me for the apples (though several chose not to take one) and arrived with either their parents or an older brother or sister.  I had seen all of my final year students but one, the rebellious and self-willed Ebony Paige.  I was surprised not to have seen her until her parents and sister told me that she had a sudden 'tummy upset' and was home in bed.   I expressed my sympathies and hoped that she would be well enough to attend school tomorrow. 

At eleven I hadn't seen or heard anyone for half an hour.    I was considering calling it a night when an flimsily dressed vampire swooped up the path.  Alone.  She had the vampire arrogance down to a tee.   'About what I would expect.  The mean bitch has no idea of fun.  Well if she doesn't give us treats she gets tricks'   With that, she started hurling eggs at my front door.

'Ebony Paige.  You have recovered from your upset tummy I see.'

'Principal Skinner...'

'Should you be out so soon after your illness?'

'Get real.  Did you really think I was going to let your stupid restrictions allow you and my parents to cramp my style?  Really?  Not a happening thing '.

'I see.  Rules and basic honesty don't apply to you.  Come with me.  In my kitchen you will find a bucket, detergent, hot water and a scrubbing brush.  The sooner you start, the sooner you finish.  And you will keep cleaning until I am satisfied'.

It took her three grudging (and initially half-hearted) attempts but the last of the egg was finally removed from my door.

'I have finished now Principal Skinner.  Can I go now?'

'No.  We are not finished yet.  The bucket and brush you used also need cleaning' . 

I close the heavy front door.  Quietly.  Firmly.

Ebony has lied to her parents and been rude and disrespectful to me.   She has to learn her lesson.  She will learn her lesson.

She does learn her lesson. 

As an educator I can think of nothing I find more gratifying than knowing that the eureka moment has been reached, and that the student will never need that lesson repeated again..

My day's work is not yet done though.  I too have some garbage disposal and cleaning to do.

Her parents will probably think they miss her.  By sparing the rod they have spoiled this child.  Perhaps they will be stricter with her little sister.  If not, it will be my duty to step in again.  As I did last year, and the year before.

***

815 words.
Full Critique acceptable.