I never really liked this holiday since I was a kid. Don’t you find it kinda controversial? Everybody tells you not to take candies from strangers and then they encourage you to do the exact opposite thing - knock on stranger’s doors for it. And did you know that the rule works both ways, actually?You should never give sweets to unfamiliar kids.
It happened last year. I do not usually celebrate the thing, but my wife is quite a sentimental flower, so she was all excited about decorating the place, getting herself a costume and stacking on goodies to give away - I just couldn’t resist.
“It’s gonna be fun. I know you will like it” - she said. I couldn’t argue, because why would I? Happy wife - happy life, after all.
The Eve itself was not much to mention of: I just opened the door, threw some candies to buckets and sacks, said something about how good the costumes were and watched my wife smiling. Repeat. By the end of the day - we almost ran out of sweets and were, actually, quite tired.
Things started to develop rapidly next day. I was minding my business, as somebody knocked on the front door. I went to check it and there was this guy. Just your average Joe waiting at my porch: pair of jeans, brown jacket, brown hair, glasses. I never saw him before around.
Before I could ask anything or even say hello he started to speak:
“Hello. I believe my son visited your house yesterday for trick or treating, right? And I believe you gave him some candies. Great. Thing is - my son has diabetes and you could potentially kill him yesterday if it was not me and his mother, who interfered and took the sweets from him. What were you thinking in the first place?”
And before I could answer with anything or even raise my eyebrows he continued:
“If you were so willing to treat my son - you should have given him some sugar-free candies, but that’s not just it. At first I expected to visit you and demand some excuse. But later, it came to me that some of those sweets include peanuts, and my boy is extremely allergic to nuts. I’m not calling police yet, but I’m pretty convinced you have some cruel intentions towards our family. So, I demand a proper excuse. Public one would be sufficient. And some sort of compensation for moral damage. I’ll accept no less that $3000, as you ruined the holiday for Timmy. I’ll buy him some proper treats. Thank you.”
I stood there with my jaw opened, completely speechless. Was this guy released from a mental hospital or something? I’ve never seen somebody so impudent in my life and I’ve seen a lot.
“Excuse me, what?” - all I could come up with at the moment.
“You heard me right, mister. Three thousands and a public excuse. I didn’t come here to bargain” - the man said.
“I’m sorry, but are you out of your mind? It’s Halloween, not that I forced your kid to get sugar from me. If you have a child with special needs - you should probably accompany him at times, to make sure things like this didn’t happen, you know? Warn the parents or, I don’t know, give him a note to show or something?” - I replied refusing to believe in seriousness of the whole situation.
“Great. Not just shamelessly ignoring your own deeds, but trying to make excuses by giving out parenting lessons. That’s just great” - he raised his voice.
“Hey, man. Chill. I can’t take your claims seriously. It’s bullshit. Look, pal, I understand you have a kid with special needs, okay. But it’s not my problem to be honest. So go get some tea, relax and look for some anger management classes. I’m not neither paying you, nor giving any excuses. Have a nice day” - I’ve said intending to slam the door to his nose.
He was boiling with rage, as he turned away to leave, and I heard him mumbling: “Oh, we will see about that… We will see…”.
“Who was it?” - my wife asked, as I returned to the kitchen, so I briefly retold her about the weird guest.
“Haha, what a dork. Maybe it’s the moon cycles or something” - she laughed.
“Yeah, just some lunatic and his cuckoo ideas on how to get extra cash, I guess” - I smiled back at her.
But the laughs didn’t last that long, as problems started.
Next morning I’ve discovered somebody stabbed my tires. All four of them. That was unpleasant, but we live in a crowded neighborhood and you know - shit happens. I thought about the man but didn’t take it seriously, as he didn’t look confident enough to pull something like that.
The day after somebody damaged my fuse box, located in the communal building down the street, breaking in and cutting some wires. There was a handwritten note left, saying: “Am I still a joke to you?”. Power was down for 5 hours straight, before the technicians arrived.
Not that I had a short temper, but that was enough. I took the note and went to local police station.
There, I told the officer on duty everything about the incident with the angry neighbor, about the car and the breaking into substation. I reinforced the statement with a note I found and described the man’s appearance. Did what I could.
Both me and my wife woke up in the middle of the night, as our kitchen window shattered with a loud bang. There was a fist-sized stone and another note taped to it: “You shouldn’t have done it”.
That was more than enough. Next morning I took my sweetheart to a bus station, so she could spend some time with her parents, and I was about to take care of this mess. No idea how, but I would figure it out, once she was out of danger. Who knows what that psychopath has in mind?
I’ve called the police several times, updating my initial complaint with some details and asking how far did they get with it. Unfortunately, there were no clues yet. They asked around about the man, but nobody on the street couldn’t recall seeing him or whatsoever.
But all of that was just a child’s play compared to what happened next.
Later that day I realized that my wife never called back, as we agreed. She was supposed to do it when she would get to her parents. I dialed the number, but it was out of reach. So I called her Mom and to my surprise - she wasn’t there yet. She wasn’t there yet 6 more hours after. And the next day. My dearest person went missing.
I did all I could: filed a missing person report, talked to the bus station personnel, the bus driver himself with little to no result - nobody paid attention to that specific woman and where she went afterwards.
CCTV didn’t bring any understanding, as she wasn’t captured on recordings.
I knew exactly whom I should blame.
Days passed, police was not much of a help and I was getting more and more desperate. She, who was the love of my life disappeared in the light of the day with no trace. I couldn’t sleep or eat, I was devastated. That was too much to bear…
Weeks later, as I was sitting in the living room, blankly starting at the wall - a knock on the door shook me up. It was dark outside, close to 23:00.
“Who is it?” - I asked, approaching.
“Sir, this is Officer Johnson from Local Police Department. We have some details on your case, please open up” - the voice said.
With grim heart and dreary thoughts of the worst - I’ve pulled the door open.
Next second my eyes were burning as If somebody tossed a torch to my face. I think I got pepper sprayed. And the second after electrical buzzing crackled below my left ear, as my whole body shook in painful convulsions until I blacked out.
My consciousness returned, revealing I was still lying in front of my door. The head pounded with ache and they eyes still burned like hell. As I stood up to wash them - a piece of paper, residing on my chest fell down to the floor.
It read: “So now you understand what’s it like to almost lose someone you love. NOW we’re even.” - in the same ugly handwriting.
Seconds later I found my wife lying on the carpet in the living room. Tied up, pale and exhausted, but alive…
They never found the man. I’ve never seen him again. Nobody around ever heard of diabetic Timmy or his parents. If you wonder - he never did anything horrible to my wife. She was kept in a room, tied and blindfolded and couple of times per day was given some food and water. She doesn’t remember how she got there or got back to our place.
This crippled me a lot. I’m afraid of strangers now. We moved far away from the city and it’s just now when I can speak about this to others. We don’t celebrate Halloween anymore, but I’m not trying to spoil it for you.
Just be careful next time you’ll be handling the candies to the strangers.