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October 29, 1942, Bob Ross was an American painter, a paint instructor and a television host. He was a Television host for “The Joy of Painting”, an instructional television program that aired from 1983 to 1994. He died on July 4, 1995, in Orlando Florida. During his earlier adult years he joined the Military serving from 1961–1981. He became well know for making painting a hobby to others and expressing his happiness and love to others through his painting as well.

It was a normal Friday night. I am sitting at my room’s desk with my computer in front of me trying to find the perfect plot for the poem I am trying to write for Ms. Luckcart. I write poems about phantoms, ghosts, and people coming back to life but none of them catch on very well. The anger in my soul grew as I could not find the perfect plot to a story. I clenched the warm screen of my computer and threatened to break it. I relaxed my hands and sat in my seat still without my plot. I screamed at my computer and demanded that my plot would cross my mind. Then It came to me, I shall write about my very experience that I had while writing my poem. What was once a pile of rot with no plot became a poem called “Once a Pile of Rot.

Last night was Halloween, and I got to stay home and pass out candy. Nothing special happened and not very many people came to the front door. although, We did have a party in the basement where we watched the Conjuring. Before hand, we got to carve pumpkins and we bought a tone of candy. We now have a 7 gallon bucket of candy sitting in our kitchen. But back tracking to carving our pumpkins. I carve some kind of character every year and I spend a lot of time trying to make it happen. I have carved star wars characters, dogs, and gymnastics figures before. My favorite would have to be the Darth Maul that I carved 2 years ago.

Let him go alone, you let you son go trick or treating by himself. He is 10 now, and you feel he is responsible enough. You tell him to stay on your block or the next. It’s a safe neighborhood, or that’s what you have always believed. When you look out the window all you see is the commotion of demons, pumpkins and pirates walking door to door in search of candy. Everything seems to innocent, so calm and a sense of happiness. You let him walk off the porch to the sidewalk where people already flocked to get the glorious-ness of sweet candy. You stay at home watching the football game and to pass out the candy. the good old fall vibe seeped in your soul and you feel a wave of calmness as he walks away to meet with his friends. an hour passed and still you feel the calmness that you did before, but it wasn’t until it was way past 10 that you feel a sense of dread and fear dwell in you. For years you feel the regret of sending you son off all alone, he’s long gone. You can’t figure out why everyone else in the asylum calls you crazier than them. You insist that you have a son, but your family deny it. Are you crazy? You don’t know.

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary. The feeling of dread flooded my heart with an unexpected quickness. Never before had I been so crushed under the weight of my own fear. as I look around, the stench of an eerie Oder stuffed my nose. It was the 13th Friday of the month of October. It couldn’t be more of a coincidence, but that’s what I wanted to believe. The only thing that could make it worse, would be the scampering black cat to cross my path. The cat scampered across the sidewalk with an unnatural hesitation, looking at me. I looked back at it with disbelief in my surprise that what I thought wouldn’t happen, happened. But there is no way a crazy killer could be out there, Right?

It was a gloomy hike towards the top of the park’s mountain. The group of friends walked slowly with deep fear dwelling within them. The park had already closed and it was late at night. They heard howling within the towering distance of the mountain top as they moved along. What they thought was ordinary wolves, was something much worse awaiting them. The group of friends reached the top of the mountain, out of breath and relieved they made it in one piece. They sat in exhaustion to recuperate for the long hike back down. The friends looked at each other in disbelief of the mist that suddenly appear at their feet. Immediately, they decided that they should head on back down the mountain. Then they saw it, a Man. The Moon then shown more brightly then even now. The man stood in the moonlight. No, No longer a man, now it looks like a wolf. It howled in the cold light of the moon reflecting off the mist floating throughout the ground. It stood still staring at the moon, then its head turned towards the kids. It’s devilish cold blooded eyes stared at them, Those glowing blood red eyes was the last thing the friends ever saw.

Over the fall break, My gymnastics Gym has their annual Halloween Sleepover where everyone who attended the gym, ages kindergarten to 12, got to play games and sleep over at the Gym. Since I was a staff I got the privilege of staying up all night to watch over the kids. It was very fun over all ans I got to help manage the flow of a Maze that we constructed out of landing mats. It took 3 hours to construct it and it was massive. Kids were split up into groups and rotated through the stations within the gym. Some consisted of games, brain games, arts and crafts the maze and more. During the maze the kids went in and tried to find their way out. There was a secret door which led to the way out.

The Old House stood alone on the street corner, the windows and doors boarded up. The crime scene tape still blew in the wind from the investigations from years ago. No one got the courage to go near it and no one dared to go inside. The house was said to be kept up by an old Care taker in which people claimed they have never even seen the caretaker. Some claimed that she didn’t really exist and some said she was a crazy lady. Never the less, The house brought nothing but a dark feeling towards anyone who came near. One fateful day, the house was taken by the state government, the house was scheduled for demolition. As the first wrecking ball stuck the house, the sighting and structure crumbled to nothing. When the rubble was uncovered, the insides of the house was exposed. What the demo team saw beyond them. There under the floor lay a secret door. They went in. What they found there was the chilling and terrifying sight of piles of the dead on the floor and in the corners of what appeared to be a dungeon. The Erie feeling of the house could only be the haunting souls of the dead who reeked their for years.

Wandering through the graveyard it felt like something was watching us. Me and my friends trudged through the dark and misty graveyard where trees poked out of the darkness as we moved past them. The Idea of spending the night in a graveyard started to feel like a bad idea, and I could see my friends thinking the something as we moved deeper and deeper into the cold aroma of the land. We came up to a large headstone in which we couldn’t make out, and a weeping willow drooped over head. We decided to go no further and camp out on top of where someone was once buried. We set out our sleeping bags next to the weeping willow and settled in for the long and anxiety flooded night. We still felt like something was watching us. That night I dreamed of something. No, someone, the ghostly figure whispered a name I could barley make it out. “Joe.” It wasn’t until the sweet taste of morning that the feeling of relief overcame my weak body. The sweet feeling of relief quickly left as I could now make out the name written on the headstone we were stationed at. “Joe” was all it said.