20-A MYSTERIOUS REFLECTION

A MYSTERIOUS REFLECTION I put out the candle and slipped under the covers. I closed my eyes. But one horrible thought kept popping up. Tonight was Halloween. The scariest night of the year! Did I mention I don't like to be scared? Get a grip, Geronimo, I told myself sharply. It's time to stop being such a scaredy mouse. Yes, I, geronimo stilton, would turn over a new leaf. From now on, I would be brave. To give myself courage, I began to chant, "I am not a scaredy mouse. I am not a scaredy mouse." I repeated the words over

and over like a CD stuck on REPEAT. After a while, my paws stopped shaking. I peeked out from under the covers. I was starting to feel better. I guess you could even say I felt stronger, tougher. No ghost was going to send this mouse scampering. In fact, I would just laugh in his ghosty old face. Then I heard a CREEAAAK. A meowing voice called out into the dark room. "That's right," it said. "You're not a scaredy mouse, You're a terrified mouse! He-he-he... He-he-he... He-he-he... He-he-he!" My fur stood on end with fright. "Who... who's there???" I squeaked. Oh, how I wished I was home! A light came on in the DARKEST corner of the room, by a small bookshelf. There I saw a female figure wearing a cone-shaped hat, a long black dress, and pointed shoes.

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She held a broom in her paw. Could it be a witch's broom? Her wide-brimmed hat cov- ered her snout, but I could tell she was a cat. The paw holding the broom had long, sharp claws. Poisonous cheesy puffs! It was a witch. And not just any old witch. The worst kind of witch there is. A CAT witch! I stared at her frightening reflection in the mirror. The witch began to chuckle. Then she sang a horrifying song. "Evil eye and rodent's pie, in my cauldron prepare to die!" she cackled. She waved her broom in the air. "Well, well, well what a nice, juicy mouse. You'd be just right for a couple of ratburgers. I could use that fur to make myself a cute hat. And those soft little ears would make a perfect powder puff!

I hid under the covers. So much for being brave. I admit it. I am a scaredy mouse, A perfectly terrified, teeth-chattering, nail- biting scaredy mouse! "Heeeeeelp!" I shrieked once again. I was beginning to sound like a broken record. Thirty seconds later, Thea threw open the door. "What's up? Did you see a ghost?" she cried. I shook my head. "No," I squeaked. "I saw a which! My sister blinked. Then she flipped her tail over her shoulder. "Well, it doesn't really matter, I suppose. A witch would make a good scoop, too," she decided. "So where is she?"

Trembling all over, I pointed at the bookshelf. Armed with her camera, my sister marched forward. I watched as she stared at the bookshelf. "Where are you, Witch?" she demanded. "Come on, I just want to take your picture." I peeked out from under the covers. I was shaking like a mouse who's been locked out of his or her mouse hole on a cold winter's night. Thea looked everywhere. But the witch was GONE!