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A Plastic Halloween Skeleton by Mak Ralston
We hung that cheap plastic skeleton in the oak tree every fall like we always did. It wasn’t special. Dollar store bones, fake glow-in-the-dark paint, plastic joints that clicked in the wind. The neighbors rolled their eyes. My mom said it was “tradition.” My dad used it to scare me in a way that somehow made me feel safer. And then he went to war and didn’t come home.
After that, Halloween stopped being about candy. It became the one night I still felt like his kid.
The first year without him, I tried to pretend I was fine. I stayed in, skipped trick-or-treating, watched safe “scary” movies, and raided the candy bowl early. But when I went to close the blinds, I saw something outside the window. The skeleton hanging from our tree wasn’t plastic anymore. It was changing. Muscle. Tendons. Skin. It climbed down, pulled a sheet around itself, and stood in our yard. And it looked up at me.
It was my father.
He looked whole. He looked at me like he always did. And then he turned toward a light I can’t explain, something bright and wrong and beautiful at the end of our street. Before he walked into it, he mouthed the same words he used to say after every bedtime story: “See you in the morning.”
This is a Halloween story about grief, faith, and the kind of love that doesn’t stay buried. It’s not about jump scares. It’s about what it means when the dead come back to keep a promise.
Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/spooky-boo-s-scary-story-time--3577322/support.
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The original Spooky Boo's Scary Story Time telling spooky, scary stories since 2016. Here you'll find true scary stories, fiction stories, urban legends, and other tall tales from the darkest corners of the internet.
Call in your own true scary story at the number 707-SPOOKYB (707-776-6592) and leave a message of up to 3 minutes, and it might be played on the Splatterday Nightmares YouTube Livestream. You must be 18 years or older to call or have permission from your parents.
On Saturday nights, I host Splatterday Nightmares on YouTube at https://www.youtube.com/@spookybooscarystorytime
Send your true scary stories to: [email protected]. 500+ words, true scary stories or your own fiction. For details, visit https://www.scarystorytime.com
We hung that cheap plastic skeleton in the oak tree every fall like we always did. It wasn’t special. Dollar store bones, fake glow-in-the-dark paint, plastic joints that clicked in the wind. The neighbors rolled their eyes. My mom said it was “tradition.” My dad used it to scare me in a way that somehow made me feel safer. And then he went to war and didn’t come home.
After that, Halloween stopped being about candy. It became the one night I still felt like his kid.
The first year without him, I tried to pretend I was fine. I stayed in, skipped trick-or-treating, watched safe “scary” movies, and raided the candy bowl early. But when I went to close the blinds, I saw something outside the window. The skeleton hanging from our tree wasn’t plastic anymore. It was changing. Muscle. Tendons. Skin. It climbed down, pulled a sheet around itself, and stood in our yard. And it looked up at me.
It was my father.
He looked whole. He looked at me like he always did. And then he turned toward a light I can’t explain, something bright and wrong and beautiful at the end of our street. Before he walked into it, he mouthed the same words he used to say after every bedtime story: “See you in the morning.”
This is a Halloween story about grief, faith, and the kind of love that doesn’t stay buried. It’s not about jump scares. It’s about what it means when the dead come back to keep a promise.
Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/spooky-boo-s-scary-story-time--3577322/support.
Follow Spooky Boo
YouTube:
Twitter:
Facebook:
The original Spooky Boo's Scary Story Time telling spooky, scary stories since 2016. Here you'll find true scary stories, fiction stories, urban legends, and other tall tales from the darkest corners of the internet.
Call in your own true scary story at the number 707-SPOOKYB (707-776-6592) and leave a message of up to 3 minutes, and it might be played on the Splatterday Nightmares YouTube Livestream. You must be 18 years or older to call or have permission from your parents.
On Saturday nights, I host Splatterday Nightmares on YouTube at https://www.youtube.com/@spookybooscarystorytime
Send your true scary stories to: [email protected]. 500+ words, true scary stories or your own fiction. For details, visit https://www.scarystorytime.com
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