This is my entry for Scikick's Halloween contest. 

..................................

I twirl around in front of the mirror. This is the best Halloween costume I've ever had! Mommy ordered it online, and it came in a big cardboard box in the mail. I asked her how the box people knew where our house was. She said it was grown-up magic. 

She says a lot of things are grown-up magic. 

"Lexi!" Mommy calls me.

I run down the stairs as fast as I can in my fluffy bunny shoes, and find Mommy by the front door with my pillowcase. 

I smile when I see its wide smile and floppy ears. It's a white bunny, just like me!

"Have fun, Lili! I'm just going to follow a few steps behind you and your friends, to make sure you don't get hurt." 

"Mommmmmyyyyy," I pout. "I'm a big girl now! I wanna go trick-or-treating alooooone!" 

"I won't get in your way," Mommy insists. "You won't even know I'm there." 

"Fine," I sigh, taking the pillowcase and walking out the door. My friends JoJo and Tina are already waiting for me outside the house. Wow, they're fast! 

We take off running as soon as we have our baskets and pillowcases ready, determined to hit as many houses and stock up on as much candy as possible. It doesn't seem to be working, though. 

Something just feels very weird. I can't run as fast as I usually can. I feel like someone's staring at me, but when I turn around, I only see Mommy. 

It's already seven o'clock, and I've barely filled the bottom quarter of my pillowcase. JoJo, Tina, and I are miserable. This is the worst Halloween ever. 

Finally, I've had enough. I just want to go home, go to bed, and forget that this ever happened. After collecting candy from one last house, I walk back down the driveway and up to Mommy, who's standing at the corner of the street. 

"I'm done," I say, tugging her hand, but she doesn't even notice me. She just keeps staring into space, like she's lost. 

"I'm done, Mommy!" I repeat, this time with more force, and nudge her shoulder. This time, she slowly turns around. Her head is tilted to the side at a really weird angle, and her mouth is hanging open. 

"Wick-O-Wheat?" she whispers. 

"It's 'trick-or-treat', Mommy," I laugh. Mommy once told me that when you don't think people's jokes are funny, you still have to laugh, 'cause it's polite. 

"Wick-O-Wheat!" she grumbles, sounding angry. I don't understand- I didn't do anything!

She lurches forward, grabbing a fistful of my hair. That's when I see the decaying skin around her eyes.  

"Wick-O-Wheat!" 

There are a bunch of grown-ups in the street now, walking all lopsided like Mommy, and they're scaring away all the kids.

Two policemen come and put me in a shiny, black car. 

They're saying something about a virus. 

Mommy told me a virus means a disease. 

Something's really wrong.