I'm creating some stories for everyday of October. Now if I miss a day, bare with me. I'll catch it up. The stories will be SHORT stories.
Happy Halloween 🎃
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"Tiffany? Did you buy enough candy?"
"I bought what you told me to ma."
"Tiffany, this is no where near enough. I'm he kids are going to come soon!"
I sulked even more on the couch, flipping through channels.
She walks in putting on her coat and grabbing her purse.
"Woah, where are you going? Ma, I have a party to go to."
"The party doesn't start till 9 but my trick or treaters will be here by 7. I'm running to the store in hope that I can find one that still has candy. I'll be back before you have to go. Promise." She kissed my head and left.
I sulked until I slid off the couch.
My mother is obsessed with trick or treating. Some childhood thing. She grow up really strict and her parents never let her trick or treat. My grandma told me the real reason. Her little brother died while trick or treating. A day that should be traumatic for her, she celebrates like it's her birthday. It's weird.
The doorbell rings and I groaned. I grab the bowl of candy we do have and answer the door.
A pale boy in a ghost costume stares up at me.
"Well? Aren't you going to say trick or treat kid?"
He was silent. He just stared up at me.
"Okay then." I dropped a few pieces of candy in his bucket and closed the door.
Back on the sofa, I could sense that the boy was still out there. And I couldn't get it out of my mind , so I went back to the door. Sure enough he was still there.
"You're not getting anymore candy kid."
He stared up at me before dropping the You on the ground and walking away. I grabbed the bucket and shut and locked the door. Weirdo.
Half an hour later, my mother returned carrying bags full of candy. "This should do it. Did any kids come by while I was gone?"
"One. A weird kid dressed like a ghost. He left his bucket and walked away."
My mom dropped all the bags she was carrying when she saw the bucket.
"It's pretty ancient right? Must've belonged to one of his parents or something."
"How did the boy look?" She asked examining the bucket in her hands.
"He looked sick. Like really pale."
"Oh my God." She mumbled, almost faintly.
"What?"
She grabbed for a chair to stable herself. "This... this bucket belonged to my brother."
"The one that died under you care on Halloween 20 years ago?"
By her expression she didn't know that I knew that.
"Grandma told me."
"Of course she did." She scoffs. "My parents, especially my mother, have always hated me for what happened to my brother. I hated myself. All he wanted to do was go trick or treating, but me being a selfish teenager wanted to go to a party with my friends. So instead of taking him I paid him off and dragged him to the party with me. I wasn't watching him and he fell. Broke his neck."
"I'm sorry mom."
"I've never forgiven myself."
"Looks like he's finally trick or treating. In the end, he got what he wanted. And you, you need to let go of this guilt. Halloween, is just a holiday mom." I hugged her and went upstairs to finish my costume.
