A Witch's Night Out - Sex Stories

A Witch's Night Out

... fault. "If you want to, you can stay and be initiated. There'll be a penalty for trespassing on the rites, but people will forget eventually. We can be a family." "But?" "You can never leave. Anyone who is initiated stays here. We can't risk the outside world finding out about us." "And my other choice?" He stood, and the bedsprings groaned. "You can leave now. But if you do, you can never come back. And we'll never see you again." Carol-Anne felt that gut-punched feeling again. Her father turned away, and she knew he was crying. He didn't even look back as he left. Perhaps there are rules about that too, she thought, bitter. The last scraps of autumn leaves clung to the branches of the tree outside. She'd woken to the sight of that tree every day for 18 years. She thought about how old it must be, and how deep its roots must go. For a second she even had a fever-yellow vision of what similar trees must have looked like in ages past, decorated with hanging nooses and the dangling bodies of people like her mother and father, limbs still twitching as the mob pelted them with stones and prodded them with farm tools-- But the vision faded. The tree was just a tree. She thought about Daniel. Doubtless he'd been given the same choice. She wondered what he would choose. Then she decided it didn't matter. She went to the closet and found her old suitcase, the one she hadn't used since the class trip in the sixth grade. Deliberately turning her back on the tree, she began to pack. * * * “The demons there are whirling, and the spirits swirl about. They sing their songs to Halloween. ‘Come join the fun,” they shout. But we do not want to go there, so we run with all our might And oh we will not go inside the haunted house tonight” -Jack Prelutsky, "The Haunted House"