Halloween Ball by Perdita Cargill & Honor Cargill

Author:Perdita Cargill & Honor Cargill [Cargill, Perdita & Cargill, Honor]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tiger Tales.
Published: 2025-06-11T00:00:00+00:00

7:32 p.m. Home

Bat Decoration Tally: 185. I’ve stepped up production. (I was hoping Dad would help, but he’s locked himself in the shed again.)

THURSDAY OCTOBER 21

6:49 p.m. Home

A LOT happened on Tuesday, which meant that this diary needed a couple of days off to lie quietly in my sock drawer and recover.

I’d had a feeling things were going too smoothly. I should have known when I passed my fractions test (fourteen out of twenty, woo-hoo!) that my day had peaked. But in English, Madam Binx lulled me into a false sense of security. Literally.

“This spell will help you be at one with your inner-calm-witch,” she announced in her singsong voice while watering her Venus flytrap. “It’s one of my favorites.”

I sighed so loudly everyone turned to look at me. My inner-anything-witch had yet to show up.

“Mallowmoons,” she murmured. “Bibbblyblossommms. Cllllllooooouddsss.”

My eyes were drooping (although that could have been because I’d stayed up all night punching holes in cardboard bat wings).

“A serene witch is a powerful witch because they are not wasting their energy on frenetic nonsense—IS THERE ANY REASON, PUCK BERRY,” she yelled, “FOR YOU TO BE PUTTING THAT BAT DOWN FABI’S CLOAK?”

“It’s not a real bat!” Puck said (it was one of my cut-out bats). “Even I wouldn’t be stupid enough to bring a REAL bat into class.”

Madam Binx tried to look upset, but she had a soft spot for Puck. “You all have a lot of work to do on your inner calm,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Okay, sit quietly for two minutes and think soothing thoughts while I duck to Miss Lupo’s room and borrow some lavender. That might help. I’m trusting you,” she said and closed the door.

One minute Blair was sitting at her desk looking serene and the next minute, with a WHOOSH, she was standing beside me.

“Well, what do we have here? Bea’s diary.” And before I even knew what was happening, she was waving my diary—THIS DIARY—in the air. “Ooooooh! Top secret.” She snickered. “Tuesday the twenty-first of September, one forty five. Woke up sweating. I’d had this terrifying nightmare that I’d gone to a school full of WITCHES and FROGS,” she read in a silly voice that I think was meant to sound like me.

I LAUNCHED myself at her and made a GRAB. Too late! She’d tossed my diary high in the air—up, up, up and noooooooo! down, down…into the open jaws of Madam Binx’s Venus flytrap….

SNAP!

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