iii. who's going in first?

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CHAPTER THREE.

CHAPTER THREE

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[ iii. who's going in first? ]




















HALLOWEEN, THE DAY where people get to become a different person overnight. The time where people get to express themselves. The day referred to as "Satan's Holiday". The day where the presumed "evil" comes out and haunts the towns, something unexplainable. The day where kids anticipate to get free candy by just saying the stereotypical three words. The day where Ingrid Owens' mischief comes out for the worst.

     Ingrid started to jam extra sets of clothes into her duffle bag she has had since "forever", in her eyes. She rapidly shoved a small blanket in there as well, not caring if it wasn't neat. She tried to stuff a pillow in there as well, but it ended up not fitting at all. Before she could even have a chance to react, she heard knocking on her opened door. "You know what day it is," her aunt sighed, watching her niece focus on getting items into the duffle bag.

     "Yea, the best day in the world," Ingrid chuckled and smiled to herself, looking back at her aunt with a wide smile. Jane rolled her eyes, not understanding why the girl loved the holiday so much. Ingrid took her attention back to packing, grabbing the newspaper Harriet given her and shoved it into her coat pocket messily.

     "When do you think you'll be home tomorrow?" Jane asked responsibly, seeing the girl shrug.

     "Whenever Scout and I are finished hanging out, I guess," Ingrid quickly added, trying not to mess up her lie she continued to tell. She grabbed the flashlight and extra batteries, trying to hide them deep into her bag.

     "You know I trust Scout and all, but just make sure you both stay responsible and-". The dirty-blonde looked back at her aunt, shocked and mortified that her aunt would even mention anything along those lines, especially with her best friend.

     "Jane!" Her aunt stood up straighter, putting her hands on her hips. "Why would you even-?"

     "I have a right to ask since my little niece is staying the night at a boy's house," Jane defended, stumping the girl who groaned in annoyance. The room was silent. The only thing heard was the girl shoving things harshly into the bag of hers'. Ingrid always got annoyed if someone assumed she had a relationship with the boy, nothing more and nothing less.

     She didn't want people to see her mother in her; a girl at the age of fourteen who had some type of relationship with all of the boys in the school.

"It's just gonna be me and Scout and we won't do anything," Ingrid sternly explained, getting irritated as she slung her bag over her shoulder. "I'll be back tomorrow."

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