Narrative Essay On Alan's Halloween Story
Also, it just so happened to be the one day a year were Alan could get away with thinking and even acting out his disgustingly, depraved thoughts without feeling guilty about them. To Alan, Halloween was nothing more than a free pass. A pass he would get once a year that would allow him immunity to let his true self come forward and he could torment the world. Alan had always been a runt as a child because of his weakened immune system. He was a foot short for his age and where other children were able to go outside and play on colder days, Alan had to stay indoors for fear of coming down with pneumonia. It was an ailment he had a knack for contracting which had landed him in the hospital several times before. As Alan sat forlornly
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at his bedroom window watching the other children play hide-and-go-seek or two-hand touch football in the street, he had to settle for being a distant spectator. And, when the neighborhood children would eventually catch on to Alan watching them from his perch high in his second-story window, they would give him the finger or stick out their tongues at him and shout obscenities his way. Things weren't much better for Alan even when he’d be allowed to go outside. He would offend have to sneak around the neighborhood and not be seen for fear of being bullied and ostracized. Not being accepted by the other children only made Alan turn inward to escape. Escape from his body. Escape from his bedroom. Escape from his boredom. Over time, Alan's fantasies became an outlet for him. They became a way for him to imagine himself as someone else, someone powerful, strong, and courageous. It also allowed him to be somebody cruel, mean, and vengeful. Alan committed his first murder when he was only twenty years old. He had drowned a ten-year-old boy named Colin Matthews in the creek not far from his house after he'd smacked little Colin on the head with a brick. At the time, it happened to be winter, and when the police found Colin's body under the ice... they determined wrongly that it was an accident. Putting on their report that, Colin had slipped on the ice, hitting his head on the frozen ground before slipping down into the water and drowning. The close call with getting caught scared and thrilled Alan at the same time, and from that moment forward, he knew he had to be more careful. Over the years since that first murder, Alan had continued in his sickening downward spiral into insanity. He had convinced himself that by killing his victims on Halloween—Devils’ Night—he was somehow not responsible for his actions. That, the killings, he would partake in would somehow be out of his control because it was Halloween and therefore not his fault. Approaching this Halloween, Alan Monroe had picked up the clown costume that he decided he would go as this All Hallows Eve from a local party store. He figured dressing up like a happy clown would be a good lure that would attract children to him, plus the make-up would work well at disguising his face. His plan was simple, just to mingle in with the local kids as they made their way down the streets trick-or-treating. Then, when he had the children’s attention during the magic tricks he would perform for them, he would quickly slip a piece of his poison-laced candy into their bags. He made sure that it was always something good, too, something children always wanted to eat first so he could maximize his kills. It wasn't the first time Alan Monroe had poisoned children... In fact, he had tried it for the first time more than twenty-five years ago when he had poisoned the Duval kids. He remembered fondly as he reveled with joy over news of the five Duval children suddenly dying. It had ripped through the hearts of the town folk like a tornado.
“Ohhh... I don't like this part of the story,” April said, cutting into Ally’s story. “Knee neider,” Tilly added. “Would you two shut-up,” Murray harped. “Go on, Ally… let me know when it gets good.” “Bite me, Murray,” Ally quipped.
Alan had dressed up like a cowboy that night when he poisoned the Duval children—his costume complete with chaps and duel colt 45 cap guns on his hips. Looking the part, he walked up and down the darkened streets of his little town looking for his victims—children unaccompanied by parents. When Alan had come across the Duval kids, he had no problem what-so-ever gaining their attention, especially the smallest and youngest of them, a silly little girl. With a series of rope tricks that Alan performed with his lasso, he kept the brown-haired, brown-eyed little darling glued to him like she was in a trance. It was only when her oldest brother—a cranky little shit—insisted that they be on their way, did Alan tip his hat and then whistle his way into the night’s darkness. But, it weren’t before he had handed each of the kids a candy bar laced with arsenic from his leather satchel. After hearing about how the Duval children becoming violently ill and having suffered horrifically before succumbing to the poison—Alan could hardly contain his giddiness. He then poisoned children again in the same manner the very next year, this time in another state, though. After his scare with Colin Matthews, he made sure he was careful not to stay in the same place for too long, that way he could throw off the authorities. And, his absence only helped to convince the people of the naive little town that the killer had moved
on. Over the years, Alan had come up with different ways of luring his victims. He was once dressed as a soldier... another year, a baseball player, even Big Bird once. But that plan had backfired on him when the only children he could attract were one’s young enough to still be accompanied by their parents. Alan had also experimented with different methods of slaughtering his victims, too. He had sliced-and-diced a kid up one year when he had dressed as a butcher. Another year, he had beaten a child to a bloody pulp when he had dressed as a boxer. He had even buried a child alive once when he had dressed up as a convict whose job it was to dig ditches in a chain gang as punishment for his crimes. But, none of those murders had given him the thrill that he’d felt twenty-five years ago when he had poisoned the Duval children. So here Alan found himself back in his hometown again, this time dressed like a wide-smiled clown, with a pocket full of virulent candy. He smiled at the thought of what he had become, a twenty-seven year long serial killer once more back where he started, on the prowl whilst looking for another unsuspecting child to murder. Only this time wouldn’t turn out like Alan had hoped. What Alan didn’t know was that on All Hallows Eve it was possible for the dead to make contact with the living. And, what he alsdidn't know... was that right at that very moment while he was ambling up and down the neighborhood streets in his over-sized clown shoes, looking for his night’s fun, several blocks away a stirring was happening to the ground in the local cemetery. A stirring just below the graves marked Duval.
at his bedroom window watching the other children play hide-and-go-seek or two-hand touch football in the street, he had to settle for being a distant spectator. And, when the neighborhood children would eventually catch on to Alan watching them from his perch high in his second-story window, they would give him the finger or stick out their tongues at him and shout obscenities his way. Things weren't much better for Alan even when he’d be allowed to go outside. He would offend have to sneak around the neighborhood and not be seen for fear of being bullied and ostracized. Not being accepted by the other children only made Alan turn inward to escape. Escape from his body. Escape from his bedroom. Escape from his boredom. Over time, Alan's fantasies became an outlet for him. They became a way for him to imagine himself as someone else, someone powerful, strong, and courageous. It also allowed him to be somebody cruel, mean, and vengeful. Alan committed his first murder when he was only twenty years old. He had drowned a ten-year-old boy named Colin Matthews in the creek not far from his house after he'd smacked little Colin on the head with a brick. At the time, it happened to be winter, and when the police found Colin's body under the ice... they determined wrongly that it was an accident. Putting on their report that, Colin had slipped on the ice, hitting his head on the frozen ground before slipping down into the water and drowning. The close call with getting caught scared and thrilled Alan at the same time, and from that moment forward, he knew he had to be more careful. Over the years since that first murder, Alan had continued in his sickening downward spiral into insanity. He had convinced himself that by killing his victims on Halloween—Devils’ Night—he was somehow not responsible for his actions. That, the killings, he would partake in would somehow be out of his control because it was Halloween and therefore not his fault. Approaching this Halloween, Alan Monroe had picked up the clown costume that he decided he would go as this All Hallows Eve from a local party store. He figured dressing up like a happy clown would be a good lure that would attract children to him, plus the make-up would work well at disguising his face. His plan was simple, just to mingle in with the local kids as they made their way down the streets trick-or-treating. Then, when he had the children’s attention during the magic tricks he would perform for them, he would quickly slip a piece of his poison-laced candy into their bags. He made sure that it was always something good, too, something children always wanted to eat first so he could maximize his kills. It wasn't the first time Alan Monroe had poisoned children... In fact, he had tried it for the first time more than twenty-five years ago when he had poisoned the Duval kids. He remembered fondly as he reveled with joy over news of the five Duval children suddenly dying. It had ripped through the hearts of the town folk like a tornado.
“Ohhh... I don't like this part of the story,” April said, cutting into Ally’s story. “Knee neider,” Tilly added. “Would you two shut-up,” Murray harped. “Go on, Ally… let me know when it gets good.” “Bite me, Murray,” Ally quipped.
Alan had dressed up like a cowboy that night when he poisoned the Duval children—his costume complete with chaps and duel colt 45 cap guns on his hips. Looking the part, he walked up and down the darkened streets of his little town looking for his victims—children unaccompanied by parents. When Alan had come across the Duval kids, he had no problem what-so-ever gaining their attention, especially the smallest and youngest of them, a silly little girl. With a series of rope tricks that Alan performed with his lasso, he kept the brown-haired, brown-eyed little darling glued to him like she was in a trance. It was only when her oldest brother—a cranky little shit—insisted that they be on their way, did Alan tip his hat and then whistle his way into the night’s darkness. But, it weren’t before he had handed each of the kids a candy bar laced with arsenic from his leather satchel. After hearing about how the Duval children becoming violently ill and having suffered horrifically before succumbing to the poison—Alan could hardly contain his giddiness. He then poisoned children again in the same manner the very next year, this time in another state, though. After his scare with Colin Matthews, he made sure he was careful not to stay in the same place for too long, that way he could throw off the authorities. And, his absence only helped to convince the people of the naive little town that the killer had moved
on. Over the years, Alan had come up with different ways of luring his victims. He was once dressed as a soldier... another year, a baseball player, even Big Bird once. But that plan had backfired on him when the only children he could attract were one’s young enough to still be accompanied by their parents. Alan had also experimented with different methods of slaughtering his victims, too. He had sliced-and-diced a kid up one year when he had dressed as a butcher. Another year, he had beaten a child to a bloody pulp when he had dressed as a boxer. He had even buried a child alive once when he had dressed up as a convict whose job it was to dig ditches in a chain gang as punishment for his crimes. But, none of those murders had given him the thrill that he’d felt twenty-five years ago when he had poisoned the Duval children. So here Alan found himself back in his hometown again, this time dressed like a wide-smiled clown, with a pocket full of virulent candy. He smiled at the thought of what he had become, a twenty-seven year long serial killer once more back where he started, on the prowl whilst looking for another unsuspecting child to murder. Only this time wouldn’t turn out like Alan had hoped. What Alan didn’t know was that on All Hallows Eve it was possible for the dead to make contact with the living. And, what he alsdidn't know... was that right at that very moment while he was ambling up and down the neighborhood streets in his over-sized clown shoes, looking for his night’s fun, several blocks away a stirring was happening to the ground in the local cemetery. A stirring just below the graves marked Duval.