till the candy gets taken and the screaming begins. Halloween has always been one of my least favorite holidays. I guess you could call me the “Scrooge” of Halloween but I could seriously do without. I’m okay with skipping a day of inexplicably justifying the indulgence of candy and costumes. Okay, the candy is all good… the costumes on the other hand are just not my thing. I like the idea of Halloween–the one day you are allowed to be someone you’re not and everyone is okay with it… but some people take it too far. I hate costumes that hide the face or are monstrous–hiding the identity of the individual wearing it. Maybe it comes from my past or just the fact that I don’t like not knowing who is around me and where everyone is. I do like the cute little home-made costumes and the giggly kids running around yelling Trick-or-Treat and ever so kindly thanking each offering neighbor. Tonight I went trick-or-treating for the first time in years. I’ve been to religious events but haven’t been trick-or-treating since my first year in foster care. As I watched the kids giggling with joy memories flooded my spinning mind. ALL day I have had flashbacks {more than usual} and vivid memories of my Halloween’s. I can’t remember a year that we, my bio-family, went trick-or-treating. I can’t remember running around giggling in anticipation of what candy would land in my bag next. I do, however, remember one year having a Halloween parade at school and actually participating. I was Pippy Longstocking. My siblings participated, as well, being skeletons and ghouls. This event that was to be filled with joy, which it was, was quickly turned into a survival of the fittest. Doing my best to get as much candy as possible, like asked by my parentals, I became violent and greedy. I went around the circle 2-3 times and feeling I still didn’t have enough candy I went after the weakest kid I could. I took candy from my classmates and made it my own in attempts to please the people who were supposed to love me. Like any child would my siblings and I ate some of the candy at school but quickly realized what we had done and did our best to hide the evidence. My mom had a bionic nose, of this I am sure, and could sniff anything out. She smelled our breath every day after school to make sure we hadn’t eaten something we shouldn’t have. We learned quickly not to eat certain things. When my siblings and I got home that night all the loot was collected and we were each given one candy, mine a tootsie-roll, and the rest was hi-jacked and hidden. But it wasn’t enough. We didn’t get that candy… other trick-or-treaters did. Not only did they get that but they also got two adults scaring them with mean jokes, a little girl forced to be butt-nekid mooning them, and some disguised voices singing “♬♩Trick-or-treat smell my feet give me something good to eat if you don’t i don’t care I’ll pull down your underwear♩♬”, along with creepy monster noises. That wasn’t even the worst of it… once the trick-or-treating died down it was time for my daddy to get his fill of pleasure for the evening…and so the story goes. Finally, the night is over. Welcome to a glimpse of one of the easiest of my 21 Halloweens. I hope you enjoyed yours and stayed safe.


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