I took a deep breath and peered toward the full, floor length mirror that stood before me. The sight that greeted me made me flush with embarrassment. The glass surface of the mirror reflected a brunette girl, who was dressed in a Dalmatian costume, the costume being a Dalmatian printed dress, with a matching headband that had fluffy dog ears  hanging about it. To add insult to injury, a pink collar with a dog bone shaped nameplate was fastened around my neck. The name 'Madeline' had been engraved upon the nameplate.

After I gave my little speech the party started in earnest. And let me tell you something, the scene unfolding before me looked like it had been lifted straight from the pages of The Great Gatsby. All the young men dressed smartly in their rented tuxedos danced upon the polished wooden floor of the country club with the belle's of Benton in their formal, sparkling gowns.

The Benton Country Club was a handsome brick building that had been built on top of a hill. The Country club was the playground for the bourgeoisie of the town. A nine hole golf course surrounded the building and attached to the building was a deep, oval-shaped swimming pool and beside the swimming pool was a tennis court. To become a member, one had to vote in. It was also clannish, with just one vote against you being enough to black ball you from ever joining the club again. 

Mischief Night Magic
Sequel to
Cemetery Shenanigans
Part Six: A Serious Conversation

“I can’t believe it but I did it. I helped my team come together and we took out a Royal! He was terrifying, his name was Fluorescon, and his ability scared me. He could upgrade his Luminescent generals giving them the ability to fire bolts of light. I thought we were all going to be purified, then I took a deep breath like Fluffy told me to do, and focused. Once I did I was able to take command. I had Dragon lead in the front to take the brunt of the hits with his Brute trait.

There is a long held belief among those who live in Yazoo County that the name of the Yazoo, the name given to the river that flows through it, and who's yearly overflow made it prime cotton growing ground comes from the old Choctaw word that means “River of Death”. I guess that is fitting enough because all the ghost stories and legends I've shared with you center on Yazoo County. This next story was told to me by a good friend of mine. Her name is Lana Edwards. She is one of the few remaining Edward's that call Benton home.

Mischief Night Magic
Sequel to 
Cemetery Shenanigans
Part Two: Making Plans

The English language is full of idioms. One of the simpler ones is “Time flies when you're having fun.” I'm not sure how true that is, but it seemed I soon lost myself in my work. The simple act of bending down, picking up a weather worn trinket and tossing it into the trashcan before moving on to the next one was like a simple form of meditation to me.

Mischief Night Magic
Sequel to
Cemetery Shenanigans
Part One: Heather Delilah Soenksen

My mother is the night nurse at King's Daughters Hospital, my father is a foreman at Benton Brickwork. Because of their shifting schedules it's rare for the two of them to be at home at the same time. My father was already at work when I left home to keep my appointment with the strange woman. My mom had just gotten off, and had already showered and was fast asleep when I left.

I decided to take Melody's advice and entered the room that was marked 'Cosplayer in Peril' about an hour after I left the other room. It was now well into the afternoon and the convention was about to reach the supreme madness that always follows an afternoon of fans being fans. The room was controlled chaos. A good dozen people were rushing around, all of them wearing jeans and bright neon orange shirts that had the words “Stage Hand” followed by the word “Volunteer” emblazoned upon the back.

“Cerridwen Circe Whitethorn!” I heard my mothers voice echo down the hallway. It seemed she was on the very verge of flipping her lid. I groaned as I looked down and then looked down at the toilet. Pieces of half chewed up chicken, sausage from this morning and bits of egg and corn floated in a light brown broth. Drinking the potion had forced me to empty my stomach. 

Cemetery Shenanigans
Part Three: Punishment

It all happened so fast. One minute I was standing in front of this strange woman, the next moment I was being guided back down the long hallway. A few minutes later I was being ushered into what I'm going to assume was the spare bedroom she had mentioned earlier. The bedroom was about half the size of the other rooms I've seen. Just room enough for a bed, a night stand and a small closet. The walls of the room had been painted a coral pink color, and on the floor there was an oval rug, also pink in color.

Darkness in the Northpark Cinema

Behind the mall there is a cinema called 'Northpark Cinema' . It's haunted, but it's not haunted by a ghost or a demon. No, what is haunting it is something more sinister than that. The first story I'm going to include in this collection of stories is one that has changed my life. Nobody believes me when I tell them this story, and I doubt you would. The story opens on a cool, crisp October day.

-24-
Blood on the Plaza

According to the sun it was around the middle of the day when Oliver, as tired as he was, followed me into the center of town. I had set a blistering pace after the bandits had ambushed us, and Oliver, though he struggled, had managed to keep up with me. Oliver was covered in blood, not his blood, but blood from the bandits that had tried to ambush us. The boy's long brown hair was matted with sweat and his feet were blistered and bleeding.

Sunday morning was an insane marathon. My Aunt Cat was still a little hung over from the half bottle of wine she had tucked away last night at dinner. And Uncle Sidney looked like he had already Taken Holy Communion. Coffee was the first order of business. Strong, black coffee, thicker than oil and strong enough to take the paint off the side of the house. Then showers, I went first. I had to dash through the shower, dash through shaving my legs, dry off and blow dry my hair and remove the polish from my fingernails. I managed to do all of this in fifteen minutes flat.

I took a deep breath as I walked into the crowded sitting room. The room was filled with ladies drawn from all four corners of the Mississippi Delta. Ladies who like me wore fine summer dresses. The room was filled with chatter but the moment I walked into the room, the chatter stopped. All eyes it seemed zoomed in on me. I could feel their eyes peering at me. It was as if they were judging me.

The buzzing of my alarm clock awoke me from a frightful sleep. Slowly opening my eyes, I peered out the window of my bedroom. Darkness, total darkness. Taking a deep breath I reached up, pulled my pillow closer to me, and turned over, hoping to snatch a few extra minutes of sleep. It was not meant to be, for a few moments later, a harsh knocking came on the other side of my bedroom door. A few seconds later and the door was pushed open and there in the doorway stood my aunt.

I returned a few moments later holding the old, leather Bible. It was the family Bible, the one that recorded all the births and deaths in the family. According to family lore, the Bible had been in the family for well over a hundred years. My Aunt Cat who was in the kitchen, pointed with fingers toward my uncle's office. I nodded my head and started to make my way to the office. The door was locked so I gently knocked. A few seconds later, I heard a crossed voice from behind the door call out.

Strange and powerful memories started to flood over me. I remembered a time when I was just starting kindergarten. I attended a private kindergarten, one that had a playroom that was attached to the main classroom. I froze and peered up into the sky as I found myself falling through time and space. In the corner of the play room, there was a corner, a kind of private corner. I also remembered there were toy chests that held clothing that the girls in my class use to play pretend and dress up.

I discovered my true self in the Mississippi Delta, a region known for its coffee colored soil, known to grow any crop known to man, known mostly for the growing of cotton and a style of music called 'The Blues'. Yes here in this flat region, I found my true self and I've never been the same. Now the chief source of income for many in the delta is farming, the crop of choice is cotton.