#twicetober

Your mom stood in front of the mirror that hung in your front entryway. She was adding the last bit of fake blood to her zombie bride costume. If you weren’t absolutely infuriated with her, you would have been geeking over her costume. It was truly exceptional.

“We’ve been over this a thousand times, Y/N. We weren’t planning on going, but important business partners are going, and you know how it is. Your father and I have to attend,” your mother explained. You huffed, crossing your arms defiantly. Yes, you did know, because any time you wanted to do something your parents found someway to ruin your plans, and they had the audacity to question why you never went out.

“Even so, why can’t I at least stay home? Why do I have to go to Grandma’s?”

“Because she’s old and needs your help with your siblings. Besides, I thought you were close to Grandma?” You rolled your eyes, plopping down onto the couch with a huff. You heard your mother sigh, but you didn’t care.

Your father came down the stairs in a suit and covered in fake blood. His white shirt was practically pink from all the blood, not to mention he smelled like the living dead. He spared you an apologetic glance that you returned with a harsh glare. Were you being a tad bit unreasonable? A bit, but it wasn’t completely unwarranted.

“Dad, tell Mom she’s being unreasonable. Tell her I can stay here by myself,” you told your father. If anyone would see reason, it would be him.

“You are more than capable of staying here by yourself,” he said, making you smirk triumphantly, “but I was the one who suggested you go to Grandma’s.” You smirk dropped, eyes widening in disbelief.

“WHAT? WHY?” you bellowed, nostrils flaring. Your parents were unbothered by your outburst.

“I don’t need, nor want, you sneaking out, throwing your own party, or having boys in my house.” You clenched your jaw, your vision slowly turning red. You let a frustrated growl.

“You guys are the absolute worse. I hate you!” You stomped to your room, throwing yourself onto your bed in a Disney-princess-like way. All you wanted to do was go to one party. You’d been talking about this party since the beginning of Spooky Season. This was the biggest party amongst your age-group. Everyone was going, well, everyone except you.

“Y/N, it’s time to go!” your mother called. You slid off your bed, grabbing your bag and trudging downstairs. You didn’t say anything as you went into the car. The minute one of them had tried to speak to you, you put your earbuds in and turned to stare out the window. You didn’t say anything as you stepped out of the car, slamming the door and running to your grandma’s door.

She was waiting at the door in her usual Scary Godmother get-up Her smile was gone as soon as she saw your unpleasant expression. She pulled you into a wordless hug as you let out tears of frustration. She rubbed your back soothingly, moving you inside and away from the neighbors’ prying eyes. When all else failed, there was only grandma.

“Oh sweetness. What’s wrong?” she asked. You pulled back, wiping away your tears with your sleeves.

“Mom and Dad broke their promise,” you sniffed. “This was supposed to be my night, and they made it about them.” Your grandma nodded, frowning slightly.

“I’m sorry sweetness. Maybe I can help,” she said. She grabbed your hand, guiding you through the house. Your younger siblings were passed out on the couch, surrounded by candy while Halloween classics played on tv. Yeah, your grandma needed your help with them. Your grandma lead you to a door you never noticed before.

“Where’re we going?” you asked. She didn’t answer. Instead, she gently pushed you into a hallway that was lined with old paintings on both sides. “Grandma?”

“I want to tell you some stories. I know you’d much rather be with your friends, but I think I can get you into the Halloween spirit again. Only if you want, though.” You smiled.