The Scariest Sleepover (Not Really)
8 pages · 7 min · ages 7+
The warm, buttery smell of salty popcorn filled the cozy living room. Zoe balanced a giant plastic bowl on her head while marching across the rug in fuzzy green socks. “I am going to stay awake all night without getting scared once,” Zoe announced, puffing out her chest. If she chickened out and called her mom for a midnight pickup, she would lose her prized Golden Explorer badge forever. Amara clicked off the floor lamp, and the room turned ink-black. “The dark is very dark,” Amara whispered. “Pah! Captain Zoe fears zero monsters!” Zoe cheered. SCRITCH-SCRITCH-RATTLE. Something scraped long claws against the hallway door. Zoe felt her knees turn to soft noodles, but she forced a very stiff grin.
Zoe grabbed her yellow flashlight and a rubber spatula from the coffee table. “I shall poke the beast into submission,” Zoe whispered, sliding toward the wooden door. “The beast sounds like it has very sharp fingernails,” Amara said, pulling her quilted blanket up to her chin. Zoe clicked the flashlight on and yanked the bedroom door wide with a heroic roar. “Captain Zoe fears zero monsters!” she yelled. A furry brown monster hissed and charged backward straight into Zoe’s shins. Zoe tumbled backward into the laundry hamper with a loud FLUMP! The beam revealed Pudding the fat orange cat, waddling in circles with his head stuck inside an empty doughnut box. “He is hunting jelly,” Amara said dryly. Zoe’s hot cheeks glowed like ripe strawberries.
After helping Pudding out of the box, Zoe crept toward the dark corridor. A strange, rhythmic sound drifted down from the ceiling: HOOOO-CLICK-CLICK. Two round, glowing yellow eyes hovered in the shadows at the end of the hallway. “That is definitely a two-headed hallway goblin,” Amara whispered, clutching a glitter pillow against her chest. Zoe thought a true explorer would never retreat from glowing eyeballs. “We need heavy tactical armor,” Zoe declared, strapping a thick sofa cushion to her stomach with a purple winter scarf. She handed Amara a rolled-up magazine. “What is this for?” Amara asked. “Self-defense swatting,” Zoe whispered back. Zoe felt the icy hardwood floor beneath her toes as they marched forward into the darkness.
The clicking grew louder as the yellow eyes blinked twice in the dark. “Charge!” Zoe whispered, raising her cushion shield like a knight. “Captain Zoe fears zero monsters!” she shouted, leaping forward with a great flying pounce. Her left sock hit a slick patch of polished floor wax. Zoe skidded sideways across the hallway and crashed straight into the bathroom doorframe with a noisy THUD! The flashlight beam wobbled upward. It was only an owl-shaped plastic nightlight, flickering on and off because the bathroom fan was blowing. “Your battle slide was very majestic,” Amara said without smiling. Zoe pulled the purple cushion off her nose and rubbed her smarting elbow. Zoe thought the owl looked much too smug for a piece of plastic.
Before the girls could giggle, a deep wail shook the floorboards beneath their toes: GROOOO-SNORK-WHEEZE! It sounded like a giant cave troll groaning inside a mountain. The cold draft from the basement stairs made the hair on Zoe’s neck prickle like pine needles. “That one is eating the guest room,” Amara said, her eyes growing as wide as saucers. Zoe knew this was the ultimate test of her courage. “We will trap it under the laundry basket and tie it down with skipping ropes,” Zoe decided firmly. She grabbed two metal pot lids from the kitchen counter to use as battle cymbals. “If it opens its jaws, I will clang with extreme volume,” Zoe promised. Amara nodded, lifting the basket high.
Zoe counted to three on her fingers, pushed open the guest room door, and slammed the pot lids together. CLANG-BANG-CRASH! “Captain Zoe fears zero monsters!” she screamed. The lumpy beast under the floral quilt sat straight up, coughing loudly. “Great galloping grasshoppers!” yelled Grandpa, blinking under his huge white mustache with his striped nightcap crooked. Zoe dropped the pot lids with a clatter. “I thought you were a cave troll,” Zoe squeaked, her voice trembling. Her tummy felt like a fizzy soda can ready to explode. “I was actually terrified of everything tonight,” Zoe admitted in a tiny whisper. Amara smiled and nudged her shoulder. “Me too,” Amara whispered. Zoe looked at the shadows on the wall and had a bright idea.
Zoe picked up the flashlight and pointed its bright beam at the plain bedroom wall. She wiggled her fingers, making a flapping shadow owl and then a snoring mustache. “Every scary monster was just a regular house thing hiding in the dark,” Zoe realized with a grin. From the kitchen, a low, shuddering hum began to rattle the cabinets: BRRRR-CLIK-HUMMM. “Wait, what is that?” Amara asked, freezing in place. Zoe did not duck behind her cushion this time. She marched straight into the kitchen, flipped on the overhead light, and patted the shiny metal door. “It is only the refrigerator making fresh ice cubes,” Zoe announced proudly. The two friends burst into loud giggles that echoed all through the house.
The sweet taste of strawberry jam on warm toast made the whole kitchen feel like a party. Zoe and Amara sat at the counter with their legs swinging, dunking crunchy cookies into cold milk. Pudding the cat purred on the rug, happily licking doughnut crumbs off his paws. “We survived the wildest haunted sleepover in history,” Amara cheered, raising her glass of milk. Zoe puffed out her chest and struck her famous hero pose on the wooden stool. “Like I told you from the very start,” Zoe proclaimed, “Captain Zoe fears zero—” DING-POP! The silver toaster launched two slices of rye bread straight toward the ceiling. Zoe shrieked and caught both flying toasts inside her pot-lid helmet without dropping a single crumb.