While I Was on a Business Trip, My Neighbor Took Down My Halloween Decorations and Used Them to Decorate Her Own House

I just wanted to return home and enjoy Halloween night after a long business trip. However, as I entered my peaceful street, I became aware of an eerie sight across the street. Let’s just say there was one final surprise planned for Halloween.

Admittedly, my one genuine love is Halloween. Some people get wild for Christmas or Easter, but for me, Halloween is sheer magic. I’m 32, childless, and recently divorced; I don’t have much time for hobbies because of how busy my job keeps me.

However, Halloween? That’s what I like. I really go all out every year. I’m talking graveyard settings, life-sized skeletons, lights, fog machines, the works. In order to make my house the most eerie one on the block, I begin planning in August, outlining every tiny detail.

And it has been successful for years. It’s kind of a legend around town, the “Haunted House on Thatcher Street” (my house!). In fact, on Halloween night, neighbors encourage their guests to stop by and take a look. And I adore it—I feel like I’m making something that, for a single evening, makes them feel like children again.

But this year, I had a surprise from life. I get a bombshell from my boss just before Halloween: “We need you on a flight to Boston tomorrow.” A business travel at the last minute. “Really?!” I almost yelled. It was only a week until Halloween.

However, there was no escape. So I took one last look at my front yard creation, which was meticulously put up with lights, a gigantic spiderweb, and eerie inflatables to create a full-on haunting graveyard scene. Then I flew out. I reasoned that the neighbors may still enjoy the setup since the goal was to return on November 1.

However, destiny had other ideas. I finally made it home early, landing on Halloween afternoon, thanks to some scheduling magic. I was ecstatic as I imagined myself giving candy to children dressed in their adorable costumes.

But something was… wrong when I came home. My home appeared empty. I mean naked.

Then I peered across the street and saw it: My skeletons. My tombstones at the graveyard. My pumpkin, which is inflatable. My eight-foot spider was there, staring back at me, in the center of my neighbor’s front yard.

I inhaled deeply, balled my fists, and urged myself to remain composed. Kids were running up and down the street on Halloween night, and the last thing I wanted was to start a commotion. However, the nerve—all of my decorations—were on her yard.

My lights’ orange glow wavered from her front yard as the sun sank, creating shadows across her house. I had the impression that I was witnessing a bizarre parallel reality.

I occasionally glanced out the window to observe what was happening on the other side of the street. Her home, decked out in my decorations, children rushing to her door as their parents congratulate her on the eerie arrangement.

In order to express my feelings to her, I gritted my teeth and visualized myself knocking on her door at this same moment, with parents and children present. However, no. I had to be more intelligent than that.

At last, the street began to calm down at midnight. As Halloween came to a close, parents escorted their children back home, porch lights went out, and decorations gleamed dimmer.

My neighbor’s home also turned black, and I observed her final set of guests departing, chatting and waving as they went down the street.

It was this. The time had come.

I didn’t hold off until the morning. The thought of my decorations strewn across her yard would keep me awake at night. So I picked up my keys, put on my jacket, and made my way directly to the convenience shop that was open all night.

I stood in front of the paint aisle, scanning the cans until I found exactly what I was looking for, the fluorescent lights humming overhead.

A sleek, glossy black paint and a vibrant, angry red paint that’s ideal for creating a statement. The bored clerk hardly gave me a look as I paid, so I picked up a couple cans of each and went to the checkout.

It was quiet, almost spooky, back on my neighborhood, with a cool wind rustling the trees and a few jack-o’-lanterns that were still there, smiling drearily from porches. I crept across the street to her yard after taking one final glance to make sure no one was looking.

As I got closer to her white gate, my pulse raced. In my hand, the spray can’s cool metal felt electrifying. I shook the can, took a long breath, and glanced over my shoulder again.

I pressed my finger firmly, and a flash of crimson paint came out as the nozzle hissed. I began cautiously and slowly, observing the letters as they formed, becoming louder and bolder on her immaculate white fence:

“I STEAL MY NEIGHBOR’S DECORATIONS TO WIN A PRIZE FOR THE BEST DECORATED HOUSE!”

I grinned, feeling a flush of delight. Every letter felt like a cathartic release, a tiny bit of my rage leaking out in vivid red paint, and it was bold, much like her move.

To give the impression that the words were leaking down her fence, I even added some dramatic dripping paint lines.

I listened the entire time, praying that no lights would turn on unexpectedly. Only the gentle sounds of the wind in the woods and the hammering of my heartbeat could be heard as the pleasing hiss of the paint faded as I dotted the last exclamation point.

However, a light inside her home flickered on as I turned to admire my creation.

As I watched her shadow emerge in the glass, I felt sick to my stomach and ducked, holding the paint can tightly. I waited, holding my breath, but she didn’t glance outside.

Rather, she shuffled toward the kitchen before disappearing again. I gave a trembling breath. I had come within seconds of being apprehended.

Regaining my composure, I stole back around her yard while holding my spray paint bag. Before I crossed the street again, I couldn’t help but take one more look at my workmanship. The best part? Her fence looked terrible. She’d have no choice but to confront it.

As I sipped my coffee and felt the exquisite sting of justice, I observed from my window the following morning. My strong, bright-red message was still shining over Sandra’s white fence, right in front of her house. She hadn’t even made an effort to hide it. It would also be difficult to brush off the paint I used.

I was enjoying the moment when a few judges from the local council started to walk down our street. With clipboards in hand, they inspected every home to evaluate our Halloween décor.

I was a little nervous; would they find my act funny or would they think I had gone too far? However, I felt I had made my point after taking one look at Sandra’s empty yard, devoid of any personal effort.

I could see the bewilderment on the judges’ faces as they came to a halt in front of her residence. They exchanged quiet whispers after gaping at the crimson inscriptions on her fence.

In fact, one of them snorted, his palm barely concealing a laugh. Sandra, observing from her window, paled as she observed them reading the message. I gave her the nicest smile I could muster, and she gave me a frightened look, but I just waved my mug up.

Before long, the group had moved over to my place. “She really did steal them?” I heard one of them murmur. to another, who nodded and laughed as they surveyed my yard, which was still somewhat empty following the borrowing of my decorations.

One of the judges, a kind woman named Mrs. Delaney, approached me as they were taking notes. “I must admit that your commitment to Halloween is impressive. Sandra had beautiful decorations, until we found out they belonged to you. With a knowing gleam in her eye, she laughed.

I smiled, pretending to be innocent. “Oh, yeah, I really look forward to Halloween. Every year, I really go all out. I simply wanted to provide the area with something eerie and unforgettable, you know.

Mrs. Delaney smiled more broadly. “Well, my dear, you’ve definitely given us something to remember. It’s safe to say that you’ve won this year’s Best Decorated House award.” She gave a wink. “Sandra’s fence really… added something, didn’t it?”

I suppressed a laugh as I nodded. “I suppose you could say it was a collaborative effort.”

At that moment, Sandra, flushed and enraged, raced out of her home. She said, “This is absurd!” and pointed a finger accusingly at me. “She vandalized my property!”

A judge turned and arched an eyebrow at her. “So, did you actually take her decorations?”

Sandra parted her lips but said nothing. She gave me a dagger-like glare as she folded her arms after a moment. She muttered, “I thought she wouldn’t mind,” in a scarcely audible voice.

Mrs. Delaney sternly stated, “Well, it seems you’ve learned a little lesson about asking permission,” while raising an eyebrow. “And the rightful owner of those decorations will receive the prize.” She nodded in agreement as she turned back to face me.

The gang had moved on when Sandra stomped her foot. As the judges proceeded down the block, she gave me one final glance, her face enraged.

I suppressed a smile and simply shrugged. “Happy Halloween, Sandra.”

I turned back to my house after that, relishing every moment.