Since storytelling began, we’ve been telling stories to frighten. From monsters and gods to the haunting figures of Count Dracula and Frankenstein’s creature, these legends let us flirt with the unknown, the fear that something more powerful and less human might control our world. They give us a way to experience fear while staying safe, a thrilling chill that we know will end when we close the book or leave the theater.

Halloween invites us to play with those fears, to turn them into costumes and myths, to laugh at the things that haunt us in the dark. But not all fears are fictional. Imagine if our everyday insecurities, our feelings of loneliness and our worries about failing or missing out followed us out into Halloween night, trailing us like shadows. The story you’re about to read brings those fears to life, letting us face them from a safe distance. As you step into the shoes of Jess, our protagonist, remember: this is just a story, a way to feel those fears and release them, giving you a little more control over your own.

 

Jess glanced at herself in the mirror, trying to ignore the emptiness seeping into her Halloween plans. She’d imagined tonight starting with her best friend, Lucy, the two of them getting ready together like every Halloween before: matching costumes, sharing makeup and blasting music. But her phone sat silently on the bed, and Lucy’s last-minute text — “running late, I’ll meet you there?” — felt like a warning sign. The costume she’d thrown together by herself — a plastic cape and a pair of dollar-store vampire fangs — felt like an improvised effort.

Part of her had been hoping she’d see Dave tonight, too. They were always friendly, and she’d had a soft spot for him since first year, though she’d never said anything. Now that he was single, she’d wondered if maybe tonight, amidst the laughter and the costumes, she’d finally work up the courage to flirt a little. She pushed the thought away, knowing better than to count on anything.

Exhaling, Jess adjusted the cape over her shoulders and forced herself to smile at her reflection. “Vampire Jess, lone ranger,” she muttered, trying to ignore the pang of loneliness that had crept in. She stuffed her phone into her small bag, threw her cape over her shoulders, and stepped out of the dorm, hoping that things would feel like Halloween once she got there.

Outside, the October air was sharp, a damp wind sweeping leaves along the campus path. Jess tugged her cape closer, steeling herself against the cold, when she noticed an older man in a blazer and several extra layers, his familiar outline hurrying toward her. Professor Walsh. Her stomach twisted. She hadn’t gone to his class that morning after sleeping through her alarm, a fact she hadn’t exactly forgotten but had tried not to dwell on.

When they crossed paths, she gave a small, awkward wave. His eyes met hers briefly, his expression flickering with polite acknowledgment as he gave a faint smile and a nod, glancing once at her costume. She instinctively tugged her skirt down a bit, painfully aware of the ridiculous fangs and flimsy cape. He continued, and Jess quickened her steps, shaking off the lingering feeling of shame and embarrassment that would follow to her 9 a.m. on Monday. 

The streets near the frat houses were packed with costumed students, the thumping bass from parties carrying through the night air. When she reached the house where Lucy had told her to meet, she stopped to take in the scene. A long line spilled down the stairs and into the yard, alive with groups of friends, laughter, and distant music. Jess joined the end of the line, wrapping her cape tighter, glancing around and watching groups of friends laughing, leaning on each other. She shuffled on her feet as the minutes stretched on, each one bringing her closer to turning around and heading back.

A group behind her laughed loudly, and Jess couldn’t help but wonder if they were laughing at her — at her dollar-store fangs, her too-thin cape — or just that she was standing here alone, waiting for a text that didn’t come.

“Some Halloween, huh?” A voice beside her broke into her thoughts, and she turned to see a tall, dark-haired guy in a black coat, his face caught in an easy half-smile as he looked at the line.

She gave a small nod, tucking her fang back in. “Yep.”

He glanced down at her costume, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “You’re a vampire?”

“Obviously,” she replied, now with a slight smile. “I’m Jess.”

“Alex,” he said, extending a hand, his smirk softening. “Nice to meet you, Vampire Jess.”

She was about to reply when one of her fangs slipped out, clattering to the stone step between them. Jess flushed, quickly bending down to pick it up, muttering something about “high-quality costume supplies.” Alex chuckled, clearly amused by her. 

“Adds to the charm,” he said. She couldn’t help but force a laugh with him, creating a bit of levity. They continued chatting, inching in line together, and finally made it into the frat house.

Once inside, Jess looked around, scanning the crowded room for Lucy. It took a few minutes, but she eventually spotted her best friend on the dance floor with Cara, both matching in Sherlock Holmes costumes, complete with little deerstalker hats and pipes. 

“There you are!” Lucy shouted over the pounding music, grinning as she pulled Jess into their circle. Jess, Lucy, and Cara started dancing, swaying to the music. When the beat dropped, Lucy threw her arm around Cara, shouting the lyrics to “Blank Space.”

Jess joined in, only to realize too late that she’d come in a beat early, her voice hanging awkwardly in the air. Lucy and Cara burst into laughter, pulling her in closer, and Jess joined in, cheeks flushed but laughing too.

Lucy and Cara drifted off to get drinks, and Jess, feeling her fangs shift again, decided it was time for a quick repair. She ducked into the first bathroom door she found, only to realize, too late, that she’d wandered into the wrong one. Her FroCo, dressed as a giant carrot, stood at the urinal, and they both froze in horror.

“Jess?” he managed, halfway through his business.

“I—I’m so sorry!” she stammered, darting back out and slamming the door, her face hot as she leaned against the hallway wall. She took a shaky breath, trying to laugh it off, when she saw Sarah, a girl from her floor, giving her a sympathetic look.

“Hey, Jess. Just so you know—your tutu is, um, kind of see-through under the lights,” Sarah said with a gentle smile, her tone apologetic.

“Oh. Wow. Thank you,” Jess mumbled, wrapping her cape tighter, her cheeks heating up as she tried to laugh it off. She scanned the crowd, feeling the weight of embarrassment but trying to ignore it as she moved back to the dance floor.

Determined to act like she was still having a good time, Jess spotted a guy she recognized from her FroCo group, dressed head-to-toe as a blue Minion. She hadn’t talked to him properly since orientation week over a year ago, but she threw her arms around him anyway, hoping to seem more carefree than she felt.

“Minion!” she shouted with a grin, though her voice felt too loud.

The guy looked down, clearly taken off guard. “Jess, right?” he asked, still smiling but slightly confused.

“Yep! Hey!” she replied, pulling back and noticing the blue paint now streaked across her arms. “Guess I’m adding a little color to my costume,” she laughed awkwardly.

He chuckled and drifted back to his friends, leaving her standing alone, her cape smeared with blue and her awkwardness only deepening.

Pulling out her phone, she checked for any message from Lucy, but instead saw an Instagram post that made her stomach sink. Dave, her friend and secret crush, was wrapped around Alyssa from her lit class, the two of them smiling in perfect pirate costumes, the kind that actually looked like they’d planned them out. She quickly scrolled away, the pang of loneliness settling deeper as she slipped out the door into the night.

The streets were darker now, the sounds of the party fading behind her as she walked back to her dorm, cape pulled tightly around her against the chill. Halfway down the path, she heard footsteps beside her, and when she looked over, Alex was there, matching her pace, hands in his pockets.

“Heading back already?” he asked lightly.

“Yeah. Kind of an… interesting night,” she replied, forcing a smile.

They walked together in silence, his presence oddly comforting even though neither spoke. After a while, he finally broke the quiet.

“Sometimes,” he said softly, “We try too hard to make a perfect night. Or to be someone.”

Jess nodded, letting his words hang in the air. They reached her dorm, and she managed a quiet “thanks” before he smiled and waved, disappearing into the shadows.

Opening the door, she felt her pocket, reaching for her ID, but felt nothing. Her stomach dropped as she realized she’d lost it somewhere along the way. And, of course, it was the worst ID photo she’d ever taken — hair in frizzed waves, the remnants of a rushed smile that looked more like a grimace — just her luck. 

She sank against the wall, feeling the weight of the night settle over her. She imagined some stranger, or worse, Dave, finding her terrible ID photo somewhere and trying to laugh it off, but the thought only made her feel worse.

“Jess?” a gentle voice said. She looked up to see Sarah, now in pajamas, giving her a kind smile. “Hey… you okay?”

Jess laughed weakly, wiping her eyes. “Yeah. Just… the spookiness of Halloween, I guess.”

Sarah nodded, sitting beside her in the dim hallway, easing the night’s sting.

“I decided to come back home early tonight,” Sarah said a little sheepishly. “Too much work. But… want to go to GHeav for a snack? We can do a Halloween debrief.”

Jess nodded, feeling a strange sense of peace settle over her. Halloween hadn’t turned out the way she’d imagined, but somehow, here with Sarah in the dim hallway, it felt okay.

Jess had come face-to-face with her fears tonight, and even though she is just a character in this story, maybe that’s a lesson we can take with us too: that sometimes, facing our fears head-on — even if it’s just through a tale — is the most effective way to move past them. By pulling those anxieties out of our imagination and into a fictional world, like Halloween lets us do, we give them shape, make them visible, and see them for what they are. In the end, it will always be okay; the story wraps up, dawn breaks and Thanksgiving is just around the corner.

LAURA BINENBOJM