Happy Birthday!

      Little Billy hated Halloween. He was born on Halloween, and the kids never wanted to celebrate, because they’d rather Trick or Treat. And his mother thought it was okay to take him Trick or Treating, instead of buying him a cake! And this Halloween was no better… She bought him some lame Skeleton costume, with a boring, plastic skull mask that pulled over the face with a rubber band, and a black leotard. All the other 5th graders were going as Star-Lord from “Guardians of the Galaxy.” Halloween sucks!
        “Billy! Put your costume on and meet me at the front door!” shouted Mom from the other room.
        “Whatever!” he shouted back.
       Billy turned to grab the Skeleton costume off his bed, but it wasn’t there. He knew he had left it there. Where could it be? He checked under the bed… three times, then his closet, and even the bathroom. He called out for Mom, but she didn’t answer. Suddenly, all the lights in the house went dead. He called again for Mom, and still nothing. Billy hated the dark, so he held his breathe and ran to Mom’s room to investigate. Mom was gone, but the Skeleton mask was there. Sitting on her bed pillow, staring at him. Billy wanted to cry, but he was too scared. Then he heard footsteps behind him. It was the rest of the costume coming to get him! He lunged toward Mom’s bedroom window, and tried desperately to open it, but the child-proof lock was on. The footsteps got closer, and Billy squealed, trying with all his might to open the lock. He couldn’t breath. He just wanted Mommy!
       “Sweetie. Stop it, its’ me!” Mom said softly.
       “Mommy,” sighed Billy. He was so happy to hear her voice.
       Before he could turn around, and leap into his mother’s arms, he saw a boney hand grab his shoulder.
       THE END

~~Story and Photo by Ian Russell

Angry Son by Indian Summer

        It was the only thing to calm him down.  Jack could get so angry sometimes.  His mother never understood why.  She only ever wanted him to do his best, so it surprised her that his best was never good enough for Jack.
        When it got bad, Jack would just listen to his music. One song in particular would sooth him, a momentary pause in his tantrum, like a two year old who stops screaming, because after so long they forgot why they were so upset in the first place.  That kind of music worried his mother, but there was no use to reprimanding her baby boy.  She was always so tired from working 12 hour days, and had already punished him for listening to this other band, “I Hate Everything…” or something.  In fact, she yelled at him so much, she almost felt bad, although she knew there was a point to be made.  She loved him so much.

 

~~Story by Ian Russell