The Halloween Before

She’d been planning her costume for over a month. Dad asked me to take Olivia Trick or Treating tonight because Halloween is her favourite time of year and Dad told me I had to make this year extra special. I used to like Halloween, when I was Olivia’s age, when no one had to worry about their appearance. Now I’m sixteen, it’s just lame.

Olivia hurries down the stairs in her bee costume. The material is frayed where she’s tried to stitch two pieces of fabric together, her wings are lopsided and she looks like Bozo the Clown, from the circus that came to town in Summer. Her cheeks plastered in pink blush; she’s humming.

“Olivia, you look...” Dad starts to say.

“You’ve been in my makeup bag!” I screech.

I race past her and run into my bedroom which has been ransacked. My beautifully organised dressing table looks like an explosion in a powder factory. Powder puffs, eyeshadow palettes and lip-gloss all thrown on the desk. I chased after her.

Dad had found his camera from the cupboard and was staging a photoshoot on the stairs. My frizzy head stuck out behind Olivia’s wings.

“How many times have I told you never to touch my stuff?”

She shrugged. “They were just lying there.”

“With the door closed.”

She looked to Dad. He did nothing, as usual, always took her side.

“Come on now Kimberly, It’s a special occasion, It’s Halloween, dress up, you won’t do it again, will you Olivia?”

Olivia looked so innocent, she looked up at me like an angel. “I’ll clean up, when we get back, promise.”

She held out her Pinky finger. I sighed, hooking my own finger. “Fine.”

Dad was happy we’d come to an arrangement.

“You two better be off before it gets too late.” Patting Olivia’s wings as she skipped on by.

He stopped me just before I left and whispered. “Don’t be so hard on her, alright? It’s not easy for her and I want this Halloween to feel extra special.”

I exhaled sharply letting Dad kiss me on the cheek. The door shut behind us. The moon glowed brightly in the sky. Tonight, would be a full moon.

The neighbourhood was already getting busy. Children with groups of their friends, families with their kids skipped, pressing doorbells. Olivia shot away, the pumpkin treat bucket she had, glued to her hand, swaying as she ran. I tried to catch up with her. My boots could outrun anyone.

“Liv!” I shouted. “Don’t run off on your own!”

She slowed down the moment I caught up with her and in the light of the streetlights I could see how ridiculous she looked wearing my bright pink blush, shimmering glitter on her nose and neon yellow eyeshadow in the creases of her eyes.

“Admit it.” She said smugly. “You like what I’ve done.”

“Something like that…”

Olivia turned her head as we walked past one of the bigger houses, who went all out for Halloween. The most outlandish decorations on the street were on this house. Anyone who’s anyone was seen here.

“Kim, please! Please can we ring their doorbell? They have the best candy!”

It was true, as well as the outside of the house, the couple that lived here made taffy so tangy your tongue would burst with flavour.

“Go on then, but I’m only going for the taffy and stick close to me.”

Holding her sweaty hand, we walked. People were lining up from the gate, just to get a look at the decorations. This year’s theme was ‘Haunted Gingerbread House’. Their roof had been sprayed brown to look like the cottage in a fairytale. Their front yard had inflatable lollipops covered in fake goop.

Mrs. Fernando stood in the doorway, with a bowl of treats in her hands. She smiled at Olivia pitifully and hissed, “Normally it’s one per child, but for you, take how many you’d like, we want this Halloween to be extra special.”

Without any hesitation, Olivia scooped her hand into the bowl, pulling out a large handful of tangy taffy.

“Here.” She said to me, dumping a few into my hand, “she told me I could have whatever I wanted.”

I opened the candy wrapper and popped it into my mouth. No better feeling than the Fernando’s candy at Halloween.

We strolled through the lit neighbourhood. On each side of the road, kids with families or friends giggled and swung their buckets in the air, filled with candy. Olivia enjoyed ringing everyone’s doorbell, saying ‘trick or treat’ and telling every adult exactly how she had made her costume, but after a while it got boring.

There were plenty of adults around. I only turned my back for a few minutes, to find no sign of Olivia. I shouted into the street, asked passing parents if they’d seen a little bee girl. I even rang doorbells, where they excepted to be greeted by small children.

“You’re a bit old to be trick or treating, and you’re not wearing a costume.”

“I’m not.... have you seen a little girl, small, wearing a bee costume? She’s my sister?”

They pointed over by one of the trees across the road. There she was, obliviously eating candy. I smacked a gum drop from her hand. “What did I say about running off like that?”

Olivia grabbed another treat from her pumpkin bucket. “I was fine. There are loads of parents around here, I won’t get lost!”

I slumped by her. “It’s not about getting lost, you can’t trust just anyone.”

She sighed and offered me one of her taffy she’d been saving. I popped it into my mouth. “It’s not my fault you hate Halloween.”

“I don’t hate Halloween!”

“Sure you do!” She cried attempting to rush off again, before I caught her wrist.

“Don’t you dare run off again, talk to me.”

She huffed, crossed her arms and sat beside me under the Fall leaves. “You used to be fun, you used to get dressed up, now you’re boring.”

“I’m not! Things just move on, okay? I can’t be young forever.”

“Why would you say that?” She squeaked. “Today was meant to be a special day!”

“Why does everyone keep reminding me of that!” I snorted.

I couldn’t catch her this time; she bolted up the street before I could stop her. I’d messed up. She’d dropped her candy basket on the ground, taffies, gum drops and peanut cups spilt everywhere.

I collected them up, scooping a handful of them and dropping them back in. At the bottom of the plastic bucket, something had been scratched into it with pen. The label was peeling but I could still read it. ‘October 31st, 1997. I don’t feel much like celebrating this year, it’s just not the same.’

A gut- wrenching feeling crawled up from my stomach to my throat. I hadn’t eaten too much sugar, I suddenly knew everything. That was my handwriting, my diary entry from next year. I grabbed the candy bucket handle, chasing her into a part of the neighbourhood I’d didn’t remember.

Here, it was quieter, it was darker but I wasn’t scared. Olivia’s bee wings sparkled under the glistening werewolf moon. I was delicate, I crept beside her.

“I understand now.” I whispered into her ear, having pulled out the paper note scratched into the bottom.

She smiled wistfully. “I get it, time moves too fast, It was uncool to be seen with your baby sister.”

Closing my eyes, I tried not to cry. “I didn’t mean it you know, tonight has been something I’ll never forget.”

“It was my special day, after all, you know how much I loved Halloween.”

She had loved Halloween. That pit in my stomach grew.

“It’s not fair.” I mumbled.

“But it’s happening whether you like it or not.”

I laughed bitterly. “When did you get so wise?”

“Because it’s not really me speaking, it’s you.”

I stopped myself from crying by staring at the ground and managed to swallow the creeping feeling.

“Right then.” I said wiping tears from the corners of my eyes. “What do you say to one last call?”

“One last call.” Olivia beamed.

Hand in hand we skipped away from the dark, empty part of the neighbourhood and rejoined the crowded Autumnal streets.

“Mrs. Landis?” I suggested.

Olivia’s eyes sparkled like diamonds. “Always!”

Mrs. Landis had lived in the same house, in the same neighbourhood for decades. She had seen us grow up and the best thing was, each Halloween she’d make molasses chocolate chip cookies, never changing her recipe.

We arrived at the gates of her home. It was quieter here. The sounds of excitable children couldn’t be heard. I rang her doorbell which gave an old-fashioned ding-a-ling. The old woman appeared at the door, holding a tray of warm, freshly baked, molasses chocolate chip cookies.

“Girls!” She cried. “Lovely to see you, here, take as many as you wish.”

Olivia claimed three for herself, sinking her teeth into one, still standing on the doorstep.

“Never change Mrs. Glandis!” Olivia munched.

She rubbed the top of her head; I choose two cookies for myself chopping into melted chocolate. “Thank You.” I said.

Mrs. Glandis looked at me. “Remember her, won’t you?”

“I will.”

Olivia took one last bite of cookie before letting herself out of the front yard.

“Last call to say goodbye.”