Brussels, October 31st. Halloween Eve. It is

Brussels, October 31st. Halloween Eve.

It is 7 PM, it is dark, the next thunderstorm is cold and there are Very few folks in the streets.

I check my very own dictaphone: it works.

I am walking along the Conscience avenue looking for someone to interview on the Halloween evening.

Children wearing skeleton, witch, wizard, wolves... fancy dress costumes walk up the street. They endure little bags which will be soon stuffed with candies and other sweets.

They stop in front of a strange house. Their frontage is made from dark red bricks. Really number is white chalked: 666.

I silently go near the youngsters: I do not want to spoil the moment they have been waiting for one year. I am observing them, invisible in the darkness.

They will discuss a moment. Unfortunately, I do not really hear what they are saying. Suddenly, the girls turns on to one of them.

I understand they were in the process of choosing the one who ring the doorbell. The child selected by the other seems to be frightened yet he puts his finger over the button of the doorbell.

The doorbell cries its sorrowful sound. At home, someone turns on the light, enlightening the darkness. The door opens and a dark-colored shadow approaches. One second afterward, I notice that it is a woman.

I actually hear the shaky voice for the child: Tricks or treats!

The girl wears a long black dress, she gets black eyes highlighted by greyish shadow, her head wears a sapphire wig and her finger nails seem to be painted by the night itself. She tells something that I do not really hear while she distributes candies, fruits and sweets to the children.

The girls thanks her and goes away.

I just rush to the door. I add myself and shake her hands. I ask her if she would agree to have an interview. She will not answer but invites me to enter her home.

I look at the adornment: in the living room, the walls are made from stones and stones; a warm fire is burning in the fireplace. There are many candles featuring black and white ghosts, pumpkins, witches and other Halloween items positioned on each table and on the supper-table is the biggest Jack O'Lantern I use ever seen. Some torches explain to the garden.

Beyond this theatrical decoration, there is a sweet home with crystal clear pine furniture and dark blue chairs, covered with light beige prtexte.

A young boy covered by a bright blanket is lying on the lounger. He is watching an episode involving "The Simpsons Halloween Special".

The woman and I are talking together considering the fact that one hour now. It is a very bizarre person. I get up and be grateful for her for her patience.

I key in my car, I am tired. My partner and i rewind the tape and listen to the voices:

ME: Why can you wear this kind of costume?

The woman: This is simply not a costume. I reflect the black half which lies in every human.

ME: Do you mean that there is an malignant part in all of us?

The woman: Perhaps you have seen people running around kids who are having fun? Obviously not! But people rush and beat to watch right here the particular victims of a car crash.

They run to watch horror movies, which have an enormous success. The newspapers like "Detective" are read by people professing to be disgusted and shocked but who read them from the primary page to the last one. It does not take dark half of the human race.

ME: Is the costume a way to show your neighbours the dark of their soul?

The woman: I will be not in disguise. This is not some sort of Halloween costume; I wear these apparel each day. You did not understand what My spouse and i said. You did not understand whom I am nor what I am. Let me explain. Look at me.

I did that.

I looked down into her sight and I saw the truth.

The very idea of it gives me the shivers.

I push on the button to stop the tape. I would like to erase right from my memory who she is and exactly what she is.

Halloween will never have the same which means for me.