I was bone-tired, the kind of tired where you can barely remember if you’ve brushed your teeth or fed the dog. My days had become a blur since the twins were born. Don’t get me wrong—Lily and Lucas were my adorable darlings, but wrangling two newborns mostly by myself was a Herculean task.
I hadn’t slept a full night in months. Halloween was just around the corner, and the neighborhood buzzed with excitement, but I could barely muster the energy to keep up with it all.
Decorating? Out of the question. Keeping up with the suburban festivities? Forget it.
Then there was Brad, my next-door neighbor, who took Halloween so seriously you’d think his life depended on it. Every October, he transformed his house into a haunted carnival with gravestones, skeleton dioramas, jack-o’-lanterns, and eerie lights.
And the look on his face when someone complimented him? Like a smug Halloween king. His display was the pride of the neighborhood, admired by everyone. But me? I was just trying to keep my eyes open, so the whole haunted house spectacle meant nothing to me.
But on a chilly October morning, everything started to unravel. I shuffled outside, balancing Lily on one hip and Lucas cradled in my other arm, only to stop dead at the sight before me.
My car was covered in egg splatters, yellow yolk running down the windshield in messy rivulets. Bits of shell clung to the congealed goo, and it looked like some twisted breakfast special had been served on my car.
«Are you kidding me?» I muttered, staring at the mess.
I’d parked my car in front of Brad’s house the night before, as it was closest to our door and made it easier to haul the twins and their stroller inside. It wasn’t like I had much choice—the street was packed with cars from neighbors and visitors admiring Brad’s display. Initially, I thought it had to be a prank. But as I noticed the egg splatters that reached all the way to Brad’s porch, my suspicion turned into certainty.
This had Brad written all over it.
Brad didn’t own the curb, but he acted as if he did, especially during Halloween. The man was as territorial as a wolf this time of year. Seething, I stomped over to his house and knocked harder than I probably should have. I was beyond done playing nice.
He opened the door, crossing his arms with that smug look that seemed permanently etched onto his face. Behind him, his house was in full Halloween mode—fake cobwebs hung from the gutters, a plastic skeleton waved from the porch, and a life-sized witch sat slumped in an Adirondack chair.
«Did you see who egged my car?» I asked, trying to contain the anger bubbling up inside me.
Brad didn’t even blink. «I did it,» he said casually, as if he were admitting to watering his plants. «Your car’s blocking the view of my decorations.»
I stared at him, stunned. «You egged my car because it was parked in front of your house? You didn’t even ask me to move it, you just decided to ruin it?»
He shrugged, looking completely unfazed. «How can people appreciate my display if they can’t see it from the road?»
For a second, I thought I might have misheard him. «Are you for real?»
He gave another smug shrug. «People come from all over to see this display, Genevieve. I’m just asking for a little cooperation. You’re always parked there. It’s inconsiderate and ruining the vibe.»
Inconsiderate? I was balancing two babies, barely keeping it together, and this man—this egomaniac—was talking to me about inconveniences? The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. «I’m sorry my life gets in the way of your spooky graveyard, Brad. I’ve got twins. Newborn twins.»
«Yeah, I know,» he said, leaning against the doorframe like we were discussing the weather. «Maybe you should park somewhere else.»
«I park there because it’s easier for me to reach my car when I’m carrying two babies and a stroller!»
Brad just shrugged again. «That’s not my problem, Genevieve. Listen, you can park there again after Halloween is over, okay?»
I stood there, speechless, my anger boiling over. But exhaustion has a funny way of snuffing out rage before it can burn too brightly. Instead of screaming, I turned on my heel and walked back inside, shaking with frustration and disbelief.
As I scrubbed the egg off my car later, something clicked. Brad wasn’t just a harmless, overzealous neighbor—he was a bully, and I had had enough. If he wanted to play dirty, fine. I was about to play smarter.
That night, as I rocked Lily to sleep, a genius idea struck me. Brad’s weakness was his pride. He needed his haunted house to be the talk of the town. Confrontation wasn’t my style, but a little mischief? That I could handle.
The next day, I strolled over to his yard while he was adding even more decorations to his porch. «Hey, Brad,» I said, sounding as cheerful as possible. «I’ve been thinking, it really was inconsiderate of me to block your display. You put so much effort into it… have you thought about giving it an upgrade?»
He looked at me, suspicious. «Upgrade?»
«Yeah, like some high-tech stuff. Fog machines, ghost projectors. You’ve got a great setup already, but if you really want to impress people, those would take it to the next level.»
His eyes lit up, and I knew I had him hooked. Brad loved the idea of outshining everyone. I rattled off a list of brands I’d researched—the worst fog machines and projectors I could find. They were notorious for breaking down and developing strange glitches, but he didn’t need to know that.
«You think so?» he asked, mentally designing his Halloween masterpiece.
«Absolutely. You’d be the talk of the neighborhood.»
Brad grinned and thanked me, eager to outdo himself. Now, all I had to do was wait.
Halloween night arrived, and as expected, Brad’s house looked like something out of a horror movie. He’d gone all out with his new “high-tech” upgrades. There was a crowd of kids and parents gathered on the sidewalk, marveling at the fog that rolled across his lawn. Brad stood in the middle of it all, basking in their admiration.
I watched from my porch with Lily and Lucas in my lap, feeling a bit like the villain in a low-budget drama. I had to admit, his setup looked impressive—until it didn’t.
Right on cue, the fog machine sputtered, spraying water instead of eerie mist, leaving Brad’s front yard soaked. The crowd gasped, the kids giggled, and Brad scrambled to stop it. His ghost projector flickered, casting a ghostly figure that jittered like a glitchy cartoon. Parents chuckled, and the kids were outright laughing.
Then, the grand finale: his giant inflatable Frankenstein began to deflate, its head rolling comically across the yard as the kids pointed and howled with laughter. A few mischievous teens, seeing an opportunity, grabbed a carton of eggs and began pelting his house, leaving him scrambling to dodge the yolky missiles.
The next morning, just as I was feeding Lucas, there was a knock on the door. I opened it to find Brad looking… well, deflated, much like his Frankenstein. He wasn’t his usual cocky self, and for a moment, I almost felt bad.
«I, uh, wanted to apologize,» he mumbled, not meeting my eyes. «For egging your car. I overreacted.»
I crossed my arms, taking my time before responding. «Yeah, you did.»
He shifted uncomfortably. «I didn’t realize how hard it must be with the twins and all. I’m sorry.»
I let the silence hang a little longer, watching him squirm. «Thanks for apologizing, Brad. I’m sure it won’t happen again.»
He nodded quickly. «No, it won’t.»
As he turned to leave, I couldn’t resist adding, «Funny how things have a way of balancing out, huh?»
He glanced back, but for once, Brad had nothing to say.
Every neighborhood has that one person who loves stirring up trouble, and ours just happens to be Sandra, the queen of rules and unsolicited advice. This Halloween, she tried replacing candy with cash, but her big idea didn’t go as planned. Click here to keep reading!
This story is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided «as is,» and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
