To become someone

The fall winds whip around the house and catch the back gate, hurling it mercilessly against the hardi board siding. The persistent thumping is like a drum and the creature inside shuffles slowly forward, marching to it's percussive beat. Her slack jawed faced and hungry eyes eagerly search for the thing she craves most. With a stiff arm, and twitching fingers she claws at the Folgers container. The Creature From The King Sized Bed clumsily removes it's lid and breathes in the fresh aroma of coffee...

Only after the brew has hit her lips will she respond to the incessant demands of the children. Soon breakfast is served and the only sound which remains is the hungry slurping of their greedy little mouths and the bang, bang, bang of the gate.

As the coffee works it's magic and life begins to return to her face, the question of who she should become on all Hallows Eve has her drumming her fingers against the mugs porcelain surface. Every day she is the same person, has the same routine, lives the same life. Deviation from the norm is too unsettling for the offspring and so the death of spontaneity occurred the minute they were born.

But for one night every year she can be whoever she wants. Whether that be a sexy doctor, or a scantily dressed nurse, a vampire, or a witch with untold power. There is so much possibility, so much she can choose from and she will revel in this opportunity to become an individual once more.

Then at the end of the night, she'll hang up her costume and don the mask of motherhood - morphing before their very eyes, changing back into the woman they've always known - and becoming their someone.