It was a crisp autumn morning and the nine teens of the Royal Branch of WHYP were preparing for breakfast. After a few sat down to eat, Shane came into the eating area and slammed a magazine onto the table.
Tapping the magazine, he said, “We are doing this.”
Myles picked it up and read it aloud. “’Ghosts, goblins, and ghouls, oh my! Surely these things all make you cry. If not, give it a try. Just hope you make it out alive.’”
“Um, what?” Nic asked, with a mouthful of cereal.
“It’s a haunted house,” Myles explained.
“Fake haunted house you mean,” Mark clarified wiping the toast crumbs off of his old green t-shirt. “Those things are a rip off and usually aren’t even that scary.”
“Of course it’s fake,” Sonny said, crossing his pale arms. “Real haunted houses don’t bring in customers.”
“Okay, mister-no-fun, why is that?” Shane challenged.
Pushing his black hair out of his eyes, Sonny retorted, “Because real haunted houses don’t always guarantee something will happen. Trust me, I’ve been in them.”
“This is great and all, but why do we care?” Johanna interrupted impatiently.
“Because we have to go; real or not,” Shane retorted. His bright green eyes jumped from face to face as he desperately looked for some support.
“Go where?” Aymie called from the coffee pot behind him. As she walked over, the room filled with the aroma of pumpkin spice.
Shane shot his sister a look as if to say, “Seriously?”
“What? I’m a classic, bald, white girl,” she replied as she clutched the ivory mug in her hands.
“Anyway, so why do we have to do this?” Blake asked finally.
“It’s October? Halloween?” Shane said disappointed. His friends never really enjoyed a scare or thrill like he did. His brother, Mark, did enjoy thrills, but they defined the term quite differently. Besides, Halloween was one of Shane’s favorite holidays. When he was in the circus, they used to have festivals and freak shows to scare folks.
“Why waste money?” Sonny interjected. “These things aren’t even scary.”
“Maybe for you,” Blake muttered.
Ignoring him, Shane provoked Sonny. “You’re just saying that because you think you are so much cooler and braver than the rest of us. I know I won’t be scared, but I think it’s fun.”
Sonny rolled his reddish brown eyes. “Oh, sure. Whatever you say, circus boy. I’m sure the clowns from your circus would scare me more than that haunted house.”
“Clowns are actually scary,” Nic clarified, pointing his spoon towards Sonny. “Don’t you hear what’s happening to those kids?”
“I was being sarcastic and insulting,” Sonny replied sharply.
“Fine. It’s on then,” Shane decided. “We will all go. If you are scared, you have to let me ride your motorcycle around, even though I don’t have a license, for an entire month.”
Sonny raised an eyebrow. His life was built upon bets and wagers. “Okay I think I can do that. But if you are scared, or I am not, then you have to do whatever I say for a month. No matter how much you don’t want to.”
Smirking, Shane replied, “Deal.”