Every Halloween, Mrs. Weaver set out the biggest bowl of candy on her porch, watching with a smile as children came by in their costumes, laughing and whispering with excitement. She loved to see the neighborhood alive with joy, even though her old house, set back a little from the street, was often missed by trick-or-treaters.
But this Halloween was different. By 9 p.m., the streets were empty, and Mrs. Weaver’s bowl was still brimming with candy. Sighing, she was about to bring it inside when she noticed a small figure standing at the edge of her yard—a child in an old-fashioned costume, dressed like a Victorian-era ghost, complete with a lacy white gown and an old, cracked porcelain mask.
Mrs. Weaver waved, but the child didn’t respond. She felt a chill, wondering how the child had snuck up so quietly. Still, she put on a friendly smile and called out, "Hello, there! Would you like some candy?"
The child stepped forward, slowly. She reached the porch and held out a small, faded burlap sack. Her movements were strange and slow, like she was underwater. Mrs. Weaver felt her heart skip a beat but gently placed a handful of candy into the sack.
"Thank you," whispered the child in a soft, breathy voice.
"Are you alone?" Mrs. Weaver asked. "Where are your parents?"
The child tilted her head. "They're… close."
Before Mrs. Weaver could ask anything else, the child turned and began to walk away, her small form disappearing into the shadows. Mrs. Weaver shrugged it off, thinking perhaps the girl had joined her friends.
The next morning, as she sipped her coffee, she noticed the sack lying on her porch, partially hidden under the railing. She picked it up, thinking the child had forgotten it. But when she opened it, her breath caught in her throat. Inside was an old, yellowed photograph of her house—dated Halloween night, 1923.
In the photo stood a small girl, dressed exactly like the child from the night before, her porcelain mask cracked in the same way.
Mrs. Weaver’s hands trembled as she looked at the photo. That night, she researched her house, and her heart froze when she found an old newspaper article. It was about a young girl named Clara who had lived in her house nearly a century ago. She had gone trick-or-treating one Halloween night in 1923… and had never returned.
The Twist: Every year, Clara’s ghost returns to trick-or-treat at her old house, drawn to the only place she had known as “home.” And each Halloween night, she leaves behind a clue, waiting for someone to finally unravel the mystery of her disappearance.
