PITCH PERFECT SPOOKFEST 2022 |Prompt: "Creatures Of The Night."

A/N: This is the first time I've written a piece in response to a prompt (pitch-perfect-spookfest) Unlike everything else I've written before, this one stands out because it's so dark. I'm warning you that reading this might make you feel sad. To get over this, I've written another piece for another prompt: "Life After Death," which will be automatically posted on 10/31/2022. That will be sequel.

NOTCHES ON THE WALL

Ten years have passed since the tragic car accident. Sometimes, time seems to stand still, yet the notches on the wall tell a different story. Every year, a new one would be added. Next to the other.

All these years, she tried to keep her sanity, resisting the temptation to fall into a never-ending cycle of depression since she knew she'd lost her. Because it would have been so easy just to let yourself go.

But she wouldn't have wanted that.

Her ethereal pallor belies the fact that she isn't a corporeal creature anymore. At least, that's what she'd imagined she would be.

And every year, on the 31st of October—the anniversary of her passing—she would appear as a spirit and leave a notch to be remembered.

Not just on the walls, but in her heart.

The feeling permeates her whole being, constricting every nerve cell like phantom pain or worse, and she feels like collapsing at any moment. If only she could wake up the following morning and see it all for what it really was: a nightmare. If she could, she'd wrap her in her arms once again and reassure her that she'd been loved from the start.

That she had always loved her more than just a best friend.

*,*,*

"God, I hate Halloween," Beca said and hid her face in her pillow, "why do we have to do this every year? I'm too old for this shit."

"C'mon, it'll be fun," Chloe said, beaming at the full-body mirror to admire her costume. "Amy is already at the party."

"You always say that. 'It'll be fun, Beca,' 'You're no fun, Beca,' and 'Why that costume again, Beca?'" To sound like Chloe, Beca imitated her by raising her vocal pitch. "Every. Fucking. Year!"

Chloe's costume as a sultry nurse was only an excuse to don her slightly tweaked vet scrubs. And Beca, who went as Satan by wearing a red sweater and accessorizing with horns, spent all of two dollars. Consistent with previous years.

The constant commotion of many boozy revelers was the primary source of her annoyance. She understood that no matter how long she had been exposed to it, she never got used to it. And never will. Chloe knew, but she still had Beca go out with her. Everyone would get together in the evening on October 30 and 31, the night before and the night of Halloween, respectively, for the celebration. And you'd be a party-pooper if you left before midnight.

Long after midnight, when everyone was drunk and unpleasant, Beca decided she wanted to go home. She felt she'd had her fill of mingling. And Chloe, being the extrovert of the two, just started to have fun.

"No, Beca, let's stay a little bit," Chloe begged her, "something feels wrong."

"You're just drunk," Beca said, trying to pry her wrist from Chloe's clutches as she flagged for a cab, "or I'll leave without you."

The driver halted in front of them, his face in the shadow of the cab. "We can leave, but let's not take this cab," Chloe said quietly, more urgently now. "I have a bad feeling."

"If you're going to throw up, I swear to God, I will not hold your hair!" Beca warned her. "You know I hate the smell of vomit."

Chloe clutched her wrist for dear life, panic in her voice. "Don't leave me."

"I have a bad feeling, too," Beca said as she rubbed her stomach, grimacing painfully. "Guess the cocktail shrimps and tequila didn't go well together." A bit softer, she told her, "Go back inside. Amy's still there. I'm heading home. I'm really not feeling well."

Though reluctantly, Chloe eventually let go of her, kissing her cheek as Beca got into the cab.

"Okay, see you later."

*,*,*

Head throbbing painfully, Beca woke up the following day to an empty apartment. Fat Amy and Chloe didn't come home. And her phone was showing missed calls from her friends. From unknown numbers. Text messages. What the heck was wrong? The time on her phone read 10:34 a.m.

She opened Chloe's text messages. 'Beca, did you get home safe?' (3:11 a.m.)

'Amy wants to stay longer. I'm on my way home now.' (3:42 a.m.)

'I really wish you hadn't left me.' (4:34 a.m.)

Until she was startled by a heavy banging at the door.

Since Beca opened the door and saw the police officers waiting in the doorway, her life had been one long nightmare.

After Chloe had gotten into a taxi, the driver lost control to avoid hitting another vehicle but ultimately steered into a tree. Chloe and the taxi driver both perished in the collision almost instantly, which was caused by the intoxicated driver of the other vehicle. The drunk driver was the only one who survived the accident.

The collision took place at 3:56 a.m. on October 31st, 2016.

She was 26 years old.

*,*,*

Beca would go back to New York on Halloween and spend the holiday alone in the studio she formerly shared with her two best friends. This time of the year was the one time she felt emotionally depleted enough to want to grieve alone.

She had just purchased a house in Philadelphia with her spouse; nonetheless, she continued to rent this apartment to have something that was exclusively hers. Nothing save the nightstand, and the sofa bed remained. Her spouse began to suspect her of cheating, but what kind of affair was that to meet your lover only during Halloween? However, she would tell him one day. Eventually.

Once old enough, her lovely daughter would one day question her mother why she never seemed to be there during the Halloween season when it was time for them to go trick-or-treating together dressed in adorable costumes.

But until then, Beca would return here to the solitude it offered. In her mind, she would reminisce about the days when her best friend and true love was still with her.

*,*,*

Chloe would see Beca every year on the day of her passing—at 3:56 a.m. and sit next to her on the bed. Beca, who had become older and even more beautiful over the years, wouldn't stir because she couldn't see her. She'd cry into her pillow with her phone in her hand, displaying the messages Chloe had sent her for the last time.

She recalled the time Beca had gotten in the taxicab as if it had only happened just hours ago, stating she wasn't feeling well because of the food she had eaten. Chloe wished she and Beca would have gone back home together, and maybe none of this would have happened.

In the end, though, you are always wiser.

Every year since that fateful night, Chloe had been watching Beca's development into a stunningly attractive and accomplished lady. At one point, when her tummy was huge, she revealed to Chloe that she was expecting a girl.

Chloe would share with her best friend all she had wanted to but had been unable to while she was still physically there with her. And every time she did it, Beca wasn't able to respond to her because she couldn't hear and see her.

Beca went on to have a successful career as a music producer, had a happy marriage, and became a homeowner many years later. When she gave birth, she'd named her daughter after Chloe.

"Thank God, it'll be a girl," Beca had said one Halloween day, rubbing her huge tummy, "Otherwise, if it were a boy, I would have called him Beally. Like Billy, but with a longer i-sound," she joked, tears in her eyes.

After seeing the cute little girl who resembled her mother in many ways, she couldn't help but smile at the thought. Beca flinched in response when she felt her friend touch her shoulder, and then she turned to check the time on her phone.

"You're such a crybaby, Beca," Chloe told her lovingly.

"I can feel you're here," Beca said quietly into the darkness as new tears ran down her face. And it was almost as if she was staring into Chloe's eyes. "Chloe will turn four next year, and I dread trick-or-treating with her. I'm a terrible mother."

"Beca, you're not…."

Wiping away the tears, Beca quietly added, staring at the ceiling now, "I won't come back next year… I'm moving to L.A. with my family. Maybe you could…." She pressed her eyes shut, covering them with one arm.

And Chloe felt what Beca wanted to say; Beca didn't even have to voice it out loud.

She wanted Chloe to follow her.

"Beca…" Chloe smiled softly, "you don't seriously believe I'm just here at this place, right? I'm wherever you are."

Sooner or later, their paths would cross again, and Beca would then understand that Chloe had always been there with her. Beca believed Chloe stayed at this place because she'd let Beca remember by leaving behind notches on the wall where Chloe's picture frame had been, which was now resting on the bedside table at Beca's house.

It was also how Beca found out that Chloe had been there. At the very least, Beca would later smile through her tears as she searched for new markings further up the wall. It had become their little game over the past few years. And that was something Beca had been holding onto.

"I still hate Halloween."

The following morning, Beca would shed new tears once she'd found another notch. "You'll always be my little creature of the night." Her voice turned soft, trying a bit lighter as she ran her fingers over the ten notches on the wall, sighing, "Now I will have to compensate the landlord for the damage you left. Thanks, dude."