S C R E A M

This is a short story based on some truth and some bullsh*t. I'll let you guess which is which. There is no reason for this story; there is no plot. There is just *this*. Enjoy babes. 

So there I am, kombucha in hand, "Thriller" blasting loudly behind me, in a stare-off with a 12 year old ( actual age is unknown, I'm guesstimating here). His little hand was clutching a handful of candy, his eyes peering deeply into mine. His mouth is stained different colors, no doubt from jolly ranchers and airheads. He is not in costume. 

The kids behind him reach their little arms around to grab a piece of candy; parents yell, "Did you say thank you?" from the sidewalk to their tiny, stumbling toddlers, all dressed as some sort of princess or ninja. The kids all mumble ' thank you ' as they try to walk a straight line back to their group. The layers of turtlenecks, costumes, and jackets impair that ability a little. They stagger about like drunks. Their plastic jack-o-lantern baskets thump against their bodies as they waddle. It is beyond me how they don't all end up on the ground.

I'm 99% sure their parents are drinking. Is that what parents on Halloween do while trick or treating? Someone, please advise.

The garage door light flickers on and off with the movement of the children, the cold bites through my jacket and sweater-  and I cannot believe the audacity of this kid. 

He had cut through our little line, again; let me reiterate that he is not in costume- I swear he might have elbowed the mermaid that had been second to the front—her purple wig hanging sideways off her head, a dull candy high look in her eyes. Red lipstick smeared all over her face—poor girl.

He didn't say "Trick-or-treat," just shoved his hand into the bowl and grabbed the biggest handful he could. 

"Hold your horses." I tell him, "We have that whole one-piece rule going on here tonight," He doesn't respond. Standing still, he looks up at me, and now here we are - staring at one another. He doesn't move, and neither do I. My cousin (11 years old, the coolest kid I've ever known, keeps his hair long and shaggy) dressed as Scream, stands motionless beside me - a plastic butcher knife stuffed in his candy basket. He looks intimidating in the long black robe and white mask, someone you wouldn't want to run into down the sidewalk by the playground. This lunatic child in front of us doesn't seem to mind - he must be immune to terror. 

I'm not sure how long the staring goes on for, long enough for me to start to hate this kid. He finally drops his handful of candy on the ground, sticking his multicolored tongue out at me- his brother grabs his arm and pulls him along with him. The two kids disappear into the night - going God knows where. Well, not really - they turned around and started down the walking path, but saying 'they turned and strolled through Apple Valley's well lit walking paths' doesn't sound as Spooktacular. So into the dark and mystery they go. 

My cousin, Scream mask still on face, whispers, 'we should have kicked his ass.' 

The children still in-line bend down and take the spilled candy, parents still talking and walking around on the road and sidewalk  (probably also drinking, although that hasn't been confirmed)- there are no rules on Halloween... people are all over. 

'I think we should have too,' I whisper back. 

The night ended up being un-eventful after that. I think about all the other houses that kid hit up - how many handfuls of candy he got away with. All we got for the rest of the night were princesses that looked like they'd been through something and, for some reason, a very put together looking cowboy who had a British accent. 

For ending, if you know that costume-less kid tell him to watch his back. 

As a side note, those of you who know me know that Halloween is an extremely magical time for me- I love all things October and horror. So imagine the sheer panic that ran through my veins when I couldn't find my cat ears, and my favorite pants that are set aside specifically for Halloween didn't fit anymore. I may or may not have cried. 

My cousin (the same one who iconically dressed up as Scream) said, while we were standing in Half Price Books, "Weren't you going to be a cat today," 

"Yes, but I couldn't find my ears, and my pants didn't fit," 

"Oh, so you came as a homeless person,"

It’s important to note here that I didn't come as a homeless person... I just wore my regular clothes. 

Safe Sailing,

A.ray