getting spoopy

Halloween is in a week and I’m watching some Michael Myers and Leatherface tonight. I had a screwdriver and whatever you wanna call peppermint vodka with eggnog other than delicious. But I finally wrote something? I want to write more, but finding that motivation is hard. I’d say this is somewhere between where you first meet these two and my most recent stuff with them. 

Another Halloween was here. From my bed, I could hear Mom opening and closing the door for the hordes of neighborhood children asking for candy, dressed in their store-bought costumes and parent-painted makeup. Through my window, I could see them going up and down the sidewalk, zipping from one side of the street to the other, pillow cases and decorative bags swinging, heavy with candy and treats. I rolled over and faced the tiny flat screen again as the antagonist of my film drove a knife into his third victim. When the door closed again, my mom called up to me to lower the volume because I was scaring the children. In return, she put a handful of peanut butter cups in the freezer for me.

I pulled my phone out from under stomach to find no messages for a happy holiday from any of my friends or even Owen, but I was left alone. The only company I had was my slasher flick and even that was almost over. I put the phone back down and propped myself up on my elbow, letting a tiny flame dance on my free palm. With a flick of my finger, it lit up the candle on my dresser across my room. I felt restless. When night fell, I could take a ride; I hadn’t checked what phase the moon would be in, but I don’t think there’s anything more festive than that. Maybe I could curse someone.

The movie credits began to roll and I swished my hand and the TV went black. I rolled off my bed, extinguished the candle, and did myself up in a floppy, black hat and fancy robe. Sliding down the banister of the staircase, I joined my mother at the door.

“Well, don’t you look stereotypical?” she asked. “I don’t remember you buying that. I don’t even remember buying it.”

I’d unwrapped a small lollipop and said, “You don’t have to buy when you can conjure, Mom.”

She looked appalled with her hands on her hips and her face screwed up tight. “So, you’re stealing?”

“I honestly don’t know where it comes from. Who says I didn’t pull it off a guy like me in Ohio? I don’t even know if there is anyone else like me. Wouldn’t that be a trip?”

“That’s still stealing, dummy.”

I swiped my hand to the side and her candy bowl flew off the table in our entryway and crashed to the floor. Her hands went back to her hips and her face resumed its position. She tilted her head to the floor and waited patiently, giving some throat clearing sounds. I snapped my fingers and the bowl and sweets returned to the table with the peanut butter cups in a neat stack off to the side.

“Put them back, Ezra. You can have more when the night is over.”

She left me with the bowl as she went to go watch an animated special on cable. As she left, it didn’t stop me from outfitting her in wrappings like a mummy. She turned quickly on her heel and shot me a dirty look, but quickly huffed away.

“Get it? Because you’re my mummy?”

“You get no candy!”

I stepped outside and sat on the porch with the bowl and just chilled out. I took my phone out of the robe and snapped a selfie in my outfit and included it in a message to Owen with emojis of pumpkins and hearts. I almost called him, but my father had just pulled into the driveway from work.

“Such a frightening costume, son.”

As he walked by me to go inside, he gently squeezed my shoulder, then the door closed. He opened it once more, dressed from head to toe in a white clown suit complete with makeup, nose, and puffy wig. Even with the cheery makeup, he seemed to have a negative disposition. He closed the door again without a word as children began to line up at the short stairs to my house. It was fun for me. My phone vibrated and I swiped it open to messages from Owen.

“Hey, what about the candy?” a small devil asked.

Grab one and go. If you don’t listen, you may be punished.” I crossed my legs and began typing my reply. [it’s the best holiday of the year and you didn’t even wish me a happy day.]

            [sorry. it’s been hectic. everyone at work has been doing their last minute stuff, so i haven’t been able to go home yet.]

            [maybe i could zap in and send them all away.]

Then a kid tried to take more than one piece of candy. He screamed and started to flail but the bowl didn’t move and neither did he.

“What happened to one piece? Greed isn’t cool, kid. Now, do you promise to take one piece and beat it?”

Tears had left tracks on the kid’s sugar skull makeup and he nodded his head quickly. With a gentle tug, I pulled his hand out of the candy and he stepped back, pulling his arm in close to his body. I handed him a junky piece and he backed away from the porch.

“If you keep up that behavior, no one else is gettin’ any. Now, get outta here.”

With the warning, kids listened to me and I went back to my phone.

            [don’t let it get to you, owen. I’ll see you tomorrow?]

            [obviously. we live together.]

            [hey. i love you. happy halloween.]

            [happy halloween. i love you too].

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Author: chancet1014

I'm a student. I'm a cashier. I'm a writer. I'm a rambler.

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