Creeps, true stories from Reddit (Second book)

When the town smells like cinnamon, you know someone just died

I've lived in this town named Tattletoe since the moment I was born. When everything smelled like nutmeg. It's quite a beautiful place. Everyone that lives here is being gifted with anything they could ever wish for. Each family has a big house with enough rooms so that generations can live together if they wish to. They receive a car, although that one is quite unnecessary if you ask me. No one ever leaves anyway and the town is small enough that a bike would be more than enough.
If you want to take a stroll down the town center you can easily do so by foot. You can watch all the little shops and restaurants. Each and every place is an individual masterpiece run by important members of the community. There is a flower shop growing the most peculiar plants with the brightest colors. There is a store making boots that will make you want to start dancing and never stop. There is a jewelry store with diamonds you have never seen before.
However, the most important place, the one that makes our town what it is, is Mrs. Holly's wonderful bakery. Mrs. Holly is an old woman with rosy cheeks and purple dresses. She likes to sing as she bakes the most delicious pastries, bread, and biscuits. Stepping foot into that wonderful bakery will never want to make you leave again. Unfortunately, we are not allowed to buy any of the things produced, not from the bakery or any of the other special shops, the goods are made for export.
There is something particularly interesting taking place in the peculiar place we call Tattletoe. You see every time a child is brought to life in our small little hospital, the town smells of nutmeg, when someone dies it smells of cinnamon. That's because as soon as the news reach the lovely Mrs. Holly, she will start baking a batch of pastry making sure everyone in town can smell that we gained or lost a member. This is something we have all grown accustomed to and we wouldn't want it any other way. The smell of a town can tell you a lot about its history you see. Paris smells like butter, Berlin smells like iron, and Napels smells like basil. Well, I have never been to any of those places myself so I couldn't tell you for sure but this is how my grandfather would describe them. He liked explaining the world with his nose. My grandfather was the most remarkable person I knew and one of the very few people who were allowed to leave the town from time to time. He was an exporter.
I still remember the day he was taken away. The cinnamon never smelled sweeter.
Tattletoe is a special place. The people who have the honor of living here are never short of anything they could wish for. But of course, this life of ease and peace comes with a price. If you live here, you need to stick to our rules. They are not many and it's not that difficult to oblige. You just need to be willing enough.
For example, if you want to live in Tattletoe you need to work. When a child reaches a certain age it is assigned to a new job. As I said we have many special shops. I know, it sounds a little strange. The town committee always says that everything needed is provided for us, if we ever wanted more it meant we were greedy and not worthy of living in this little paradise.
I never understood much about our ideals. You work all your life but are not allowed to buy anything? It felt strange to me but my parents taught me from an early age that I needed to follow the rules.
Now that I am old enough to work I was assigned to my first job. I assumed I would have to work in the toothpaste factory together with mum and dad. The toothpaste that makes your teeth go all black and achy but instead I got a much better job. One that every child in town could only dream of.
I would be working in Mrs. Holly's bakery.

---
"Deborah, oh please. Come in, come in!" Mrs. Holly greeted me with a warm smile.
It was so early in the morning the sky was still black, but I knew better than to be late on my first day of work.
"Morning Mrs. Holly and thank you so much for hiring me. I was a little afraid of what other job I might get."
She gave me a sympathetic smile and waved me inside. She handed me my very own apron as we walked to the back of the bakery.
"I usually work alone but I heard a rumor that they wanted to assign you to be a shoe tester and I really wouldn't have wanted your feet to fall off."
I furrowed my brow.
"Why would my feet fall off?"
"Oh. honey the committee heard about some city somewhere in the states where the people are apparently dancing even when they shouldn't. Now they want to punish them so produce increased. They need testers to see if the new shoes work accordingly"
"Right." I mumbled. All the products were created so someone somewhere could be punished. Don't ask me why; the committee seems to have very clear ideas on how the world should look like.
"You know your grandfather was a good friend of mine. I always had a sweet spot for you, my dear. Your parents were smart only to have one child, some people here-"
She stopped talking and smiled at me, as if she had almost said something she shouldn't.
"Anyway, I was just starting to make a batch of snickerdoodles, why don't you help me with that?"
"Who died?" I blurted out.
"You know the Drottles, right? Well, their oldest son fell in love with Jenny Jenkins. Apparently he tried getting her a ring. Poor fool. He knew what would happen if they found out."

---
The longer I worked at Mrs. Holly's bakery, the more I started understanding what was actually taking place in our town. The factories and shops were creating something awful. Everyone that was old enough knew about it but they chose to ignore it. Even if they all had different reasons. Life here was really perfect, you never had to fear for anything as long as you worked and didn't take any of the products from the forbidden shops. There were enough stores giving out legal things for free. The house, the car, the food, the drinks, the entertainment and everything else you could imagine. Anything that was given to the people for free was a way to make them live happily and not start asking questions.
As there was another rule. Never ask questions.
"What did my grandpa do?"
I know I wasn't allowed to ask. Mrs. Holly could hit me, hurt me, make them burn me but somehow I couldn't keep myself from blurting out those words. I kept asking myself this question each time I smelled cinnamon. Besides Mrs. Holly and I had grown closer. I felt like I could trust her.
When I said those words, her eyes opened wide with terror.
"Child, are you insane? Don't you know that-"
"I'm not supposed to ask questions. I know. But you know the other day they took Timmy, my neighbor. He was such a kind and sweet person. They assigned him to the crematory and he said no. So they threw him in."
I don't know what befell me. Maybe it was the fact that I was getting older or maybe the bakery made me feel dumb and brave. Timmy wasn't the only one they took. Just the one that hurt me the most. He was a kind boy.
Mrs. Holly sighed.
"Your grandfather didn't do his job. He was supposed to travel and sell but instead he destroyed the products. He still got the money in different ways but the committee found out that he was tricking them. This is all I will say and don't ever ask or question anything again."
She got the wooden rolling pin from the desk, I saw the pain in her eyes as she held it up and hit my arm with all her strength. They probably heard what I asked and they'd know if she didn't do it properly. I knew she didn't want to hurt me but it was my own fault for asking questions. The broken hand was worth the information she gave me. Besides my punishment could have been much worse.
I thought I understood Tattletoe but simple answers can never answer complicated questions. I understand that now. For a long time, I thought it were the smells. The nutmeg would make you happy, the cinnamon would teach you to fear. Except I spent every day in the bakery surrounded by the smells and only now I'm starting to become skeptical. I'm starting to doubt and to understand. And nutmeg doesn't make anyone happy. Too much of it can even become poisonous.
There was a time where I was afraid of Mrs. Holly and the smell of cinnamon. To me it meant death. Now I understand that Mrs. Holly isn't trying to scare everyone by alarming them with the smell, she is trying to cover up the smell of burning corpses. I don't even want to imagine how many snickerdoodles she had to bake after they burned all her children and husband when they tried to leave the town.

Posted by u/likeeyedid