Sweet Like Candy (The Series)

Chapter Three: I Always Hated Halloween

Halloween, October 31st:

Harper had been in ICU for four days straight. The fantastic team of doctors and nurses found copious amounts of the painkiller - Dermol - floating in Harper's blood stream, which resulted in my best friend going into cardiac arrest. The medical staff couldn't determine if the drug was laced into a drink Harper may have taken or if she tried to take her own life with it. I was convinced it was the former. Harper was many, many things but suicidal was not one of them. I had a horrible feeling lodged deep within my gut that whoever murdered Gregory came for Harper too. Harper spent the next week in an induced coma to prevent her brain from swelling, at least that's what Doctor Davenport told me.

Dr. Lukas Davenport was a brilliant doctor. He had numerous scientific doctorate degrees, he spent most of his free time at various charities throughout Oak Hills and his charm was so charming that it seemed like he could read the phone book and still make it seem interesting. He was that kind of a person. Someone you'd never suspect. (I'll tell you about that later).

I had spent four nights lying on ceramic, silver, cold hospital waiting room chairs. I couldn't leave Harper's side. Gabriella's warning about Harper and Harper's bad turn were not a coincidence. I knew that. Nevertheless, I was told by Dr. Lukas Davenport that Harper would be taken out of the induced coma the next morning - November 1. If you're horribly bad at math like I was, then let me tell you that that day was October 31 - Halloween. I always hated Halloween. The darkness that surrounds that particular holiday has always creeped me out. I hate being scared and a holiday built around capitalizing on people's fears always seemed so corrupt to me. I left the hospital at about nine thirty on Halloween night. St. John's Hospital was located in the heart of Oak Hills, with surrounding neighborhoods covering the area outside the hospital. The streets were cramped with children dressed as their favorite superheroes, princesses and villains, with the dragged out, tired faces of their parents slewing far behind. Halloween is a child's holiday. I hate it so fucking much but I had a real reason to hate that Halloween. A dark reason.

I called Carter's phone as I stood outside the hospital, the air consumed with second hand smoke from the hospital workers to my left on their smoke break. Carter had dropped me off at the hospital when I got the call but left to go to Alexander's annual Halloween party. I knew Carter wouldn't pick up but I tried anyway. I was right, he didn't. I decided to walk back to my home, as it was only about a ten minute walk and the Fall air seemed surprisingly nice. As I strolled down the candy filled streets of Oak Hills, thoughts surrounding the newspaper clippings that were stashed inside my purse dangling from my right shoulder entered my mind. I had one hell of a time the past couple days so it was about time I finally got some answers. I plopped myself down on a park bench, which was completely surrounded by bushes, cut off from the people enjoying the Halloween festivities. The only light I had was a dim street light that peered over the bush behind me. I pulled out the crumpled up newspaper clippings from my canary yellow Chanel purse (thanks to Mr. Matthews). The first one I saw was dated September 1, 1989. It was a headline story, with a poor quality photograph of what I believed to be three teenagers - two girls and a boy - cradling the body of a woman, who resembled my face eerily. The headline only emphasized my emotions :

"MAGUIRE'S VS. JANE'S FEUD OVER: DEATH ENSUES".

Maguire's vs. Jane's? That couldn't have been right. I scoured the rest of the newspaper clippings for an explanation to the photograph but they were all useless and about the latest equestrian race results. I turned my confused attention to the written paragraph next to the photo which shiver-inducingly read:

"Three eighteen year old adults - who wish not to be named - have faced an ordeal of loss, pain and anguish over the last year as a direct result of the long feud between the Maguire family and Jane family over the oil found at Crescent Avenue, two miles south of Oak Hills. Six members of the Maguire clan have perished, in comparison to just two Jane's. This sounds like something out of a Shakespearean tale but, unfortunately, for this devastated group of teens - it's reality".