The Ghost in Glasses

This is the worst Octo-boo-r ever. (I’m a ghost. Humans call this month October, but we ghosts call it Octo-boo-r.) Why is it the worst Octo-boo-r ever? I’ll tell you why. Humans just moved into my house! 

This used to be the perfect haunted house. There were cobwebs everywhere. There were drafts of cold air to give us boo-sts as we flew around.

I could cast spells on the house whenever I wanted to. Sometimes I made the walls sparkly and purple. Sometimes I made the floors into trampolines. Sometimes, on cold days, I made hot cocoa come out of the faucets. 

Now everything is different. The humans vacuumed up all the cobwebs. Plus, my mom says I’m not allowed to cast spells on the house anymore.

She says we can’t let the humans know we’re here. She says humans are scary. She makes me stay in the attic all day. I’m so boo-red!

One day, my mom is away at the boo-k store. I decide to break the rules and fly around downstairs. I fly into the kitchen. Then I stop. There’s a human in the kitchen! 

I thought all humans were scary, but this human doesn’t look scary at all. She looks like she’s about my age. She even has glasses, just like me. 

She seems to be attempting to cook. She’s trying, but it’s not going well. There’s a broken egg on the floor and milk spilled on the counter. 

I wish I could help the girl. But if I help her, she’ll know there are ghosts in her house. Then my mom will get super mad at me. She would be furious! I don’t know what to do. 

I watch the human climb onto the kitchen counter. I think she’s attempting to reach something on a high shelf. It must be tough, not being able to fly. 

Suddenly, she slips in the spilled milk! She tumbles off the counter!

Without thinking, I zoom toward her and catch her. Then I set her on the floor. 

“Are you OK?” I ask.

“Aah!” she screams. 

“Don’t worry! I’m just a ghost!” I say.

“Ghosts are scary!” she yells. 

“No we’re not! I promise! Actually, ghosts think humans are scary. Are you scary?” I say. 

“Of course not!” she says.

“Then I guess neither of us is scary,” I say. “By the way, what are you doing?” I ask. 

“I’m trying to make Halloween cookies for my mom. She’s been stressed out from moving. But all I’ve made is a big mess,” she sighs. 

“I’ll help you!” I say. “I can fly to reach things on the high shelves. I can cast some spells to help too.”

“Thank you. That would be great. Also, my name’s Hazel,” the girl says.

“I’m Bella,” I say, smiling.

We mix ingredients. Then we bake the cookies. I cast a spell to clean up the mess. When the cookies come out of the oven, Hazel smooths green frosting over them. I do a spell to make them glittery. 

“This is fun. We should do this all the time,” Hazel says.

“I agree. But I’m worried my mom won’t want me to be friends with a human. She’s scared of humans,” I say. 

“Yeah, my mom is scared of ghosts. But she doesn’t even know any ghosts!” Hazel says. 

“I have an idea. Let’s have a little Halloween party for us and our moms tonight! They can get to know each other. Then they won’t be so scared. My mom will be home from the boo-k store at five,” I say. 

“Perfect! My mom finishes work at five,” Hazel says.

We decorate the house for the party. Hazel hangs up shimmering lights and streamers. They shine and sparkle. I cast a spell to make glow-in-the-dark cobwebs. We put the Halloween cookies on an orange plate. 

Then Hazel’s mom comes out of her office and my mom gets back from the boo-k store, both at the same time. 

“Surprise!” we say. 

“Aah! Ghosts!” yells Hazel’s mom.

“Aah! Humans!” yells my mom. 

“Don’t worry,” we say. We explain how we became friends. Then we give them our cookies. They’re still nervous, but they start to talk.It turns out they like a lot of the same things. My mom likes arranging dead flowers and making them look pretty. Hazel’s mom likes arranging live flowers. Hazel’s mom likes to tell ghost stories. My mom likes to tell human stories. 

Pretty soon, they are becoming friends, just like me and Hazel. I smile at Hazel. Our plan worked! This is going to be the best Octo-boo-r ever, or the best October ever, as Hazel would say.