Candy From Strangers

Prompt Day #77: Think of something you would never, ever do because it would be morally reprehensible. Now construct a situation where it is completely justified…and necessary to solve some larger problem.

This one was tough obviously. It’s hard to write about things that go against everything that you stand for. Kids are my soft spot. They are so vulnerable and trusting and it is our job to protect them. I remember when I was a kid, we never went trick or treating at stranger’s houses because everyone knew that strangers put razor blades in apples and poison the candy just for the thrill of it. A time when You were not allowed to eat any candy from parades, or stores or anywhere unknown until your parents “examined it” (because my parents had the same abilities of drug sniffing dogs, right?) When I became a mother myself, I was always worried about everything my daughter was exposed to. Anyways I’m reminiscing too much. Bottom line–don’t judge me for this. It is fiction to make you squirm.


Candy From Strangers


I killed my son first. What sort of crazed mad-woman would I be if I went to all the trouble that I have to save the human race and yet be selfish enough not to kill my own child? I waited as long as I could, of course I did. I couldn’t have done it—any of it—unless I was absolutely sure. The day I poisoned him, I knew in my heart that he was no longer my child, and that helped me find peace. I grieve his loss, but I won’t feel guilty about it. I’m sure my acts won’t stop them, they’ll find another way, perhaps a direct attack, but I think they are trying to avoid any destruction to the planet. I think they are simply trying to eradicate all of us.

Using children was smart, what better way to spread the disease quickly? Show me an area where you’ll find a large mass of people and I’ll show you a number of dirty kids touching everything, spreading germs everywhere they go. It’s in their nature.  And when they tell their stories of the aliens and how they visited a space ship, no one is going to believe them. Children have such wonderful imaginations. If there is anything I do feel guilty about it’s not listening to my son when he told those stories to me. I doubt it would have changed the outcome; could I have stopped them from taking him? I don’t know.  But I wish I had listened to him at the end, when he got scared.

Let me lay out the facts from the beginning. I’m writing this because if I don’t survive long enough to see the end, I want the survivors to understand why I’ve done what I am about to do and what they must do to carry on. Six months or so ago, my son Luke came into my room at three in the morning. He told me he had a scary but nice dream and he wanted to sleep with me. He is seven, he was seven I guess I should say, and it wasn’t uncommon for him to want to sleep with me. His father is a pilot and is rarely home, so I don’t mind. I was exhausted and I wanted to go back to sleep but he wanted to tell me about his dream.

He told me the dream started in his room, in his bed. He said he woke up and he was flying way up to the stars. He said there was a spaceship with scary-looking aliens waiting for him. He said he was very scared but then they were nice and gave him ice cream. He said they let him play video games with their “really cool system”. But then he said he asked them if he could go home, he told them he missed me. He said they told him he could for now but they would come back for him again and soon, he wouldn’t want to go home anymore. That’s when he started to cry. He said that made him scared because he didn’t want to be away from me forever. I shushed him back to sleep and held him. I told him it was just a dream and no one was ever going to take him away from me.

I’m a child psychologist. I hear a lot of childhood dreams and fears. I analyze them and use them to counsel the child. What I got from Luke’s dream was he was feeling insecure with his father gone so much and he was having some separation anxiety. I told myself I would try harder to be more interactive with him at home. Even play some video games (which I loathe) if that’s what he wanted. The next day at work, I saw a new patient. She was a precocious eight year old who was falling asleep in school. She told me she was being abducted by aliens at night, almost every night. She told me how they gave her a tour of the ship. She said they told her our planet was dying. She began to cry. She said they told her that humans were a sickness and we were killing the earth. She said they told her they were like doctors and had come to save it. I never connected it to Luke’s dream. It seems silly now, but she was just another patient in a day full of unusual stories and half-truth memories. This girl was mature for her age and I knew she was taking Earth Science. She was studying global warming. To me, it was clear that these nightmares were panic attacks brought on by her personal guilt as a member of the human species. Aliens, monsters, ghosts; they are all the same in the minds of children. They represent the unknown or the subconscious. Occasionally they are manifestations of repressed memories. The point is, they’re all common themes in childhood and to believe that there is truth in them would be madness.

Luke’s nightmares continued, and I was beginning to see more and more children with alien abduction stories. The theme was the same; the aliens showed them how sick the planet was, told them that humans were destroying it and they were here to save it. I found myself watching the sky at night, searching for some sign that what they were saying might be true. Luke was becoming withdrawn, dark circles appeared beneath his eyes. He stopped coming in my room at night, he stopped being Luke. When he came home from school he would go to his room and sit. I took him to the doctor but they said nothing was physically wrong with him. The words Autism and Asperger’s were dropped noncommittally.

I quit taking him to doctors. Instead, I installed a video monitor in his room. The first night, nothing happened. The second night, I watched my son sit up in bed from a deep sleep. He opened his eyes, but all I could see were the whites. He tilted his head back as if he was looking up. I thought he might be having a seizure. I ran down the hall to his room. He was gone. I looked everywhere but he was just gone. I replayed the video and watched in horror as he levitated within a cone of green light and then, he was gone. I told no one. How could I? People would have thought I was crazy. I decided not to tell his father even. I waited up all night, every night for a week. And then, one night as I finally gave in to sleep, he just walked into my room as if he’d never been gone. Hello Mama he said in a voice that was not my boy’s. I hugged him, held him and I cried. He did not move to hug me back. I took his hands in mine and I rubbed them and kissed them. I felt something strange on his palms and turned them up to look at them. All the creases and lines in his hands were inverted. They were mounded like Peruvian Nazca lines and when I touched them, I felt a vibration or a light shock of sorts. I pulled my hand back. What happened to you, Luke? I asked him. Can we go to Disney World, Mama? Can we go soon?  That was his response. Disney World.

He slept with me that night. I woke up once from a jolt in the neck and he had his little hand laid on it. He was not sleeping. He was wide awake, staring at me. I got up and went in the bathroom. There was a small red dot on my neck and a raised welt on my finger where I touched his palm earlier. I used my make-up mirror for a magnified look. It looked like I’d been stung, there was a hole with a tiny black hair sticking out. I grabbed the tweezers and pulled. A long, thin piece of wiry thread came out. I held it with the tweezers and watched it writhing. It was alive! I looked at my finger and pulled another out of it. I through them in the sink and washed them down the drain. It was a split second decision that I now regret. I turned around to go back to bed and there was Luke, standing there, blank eyes, staring at me. Why’d you throw my love away, Mama? I made them for you. That’s when I knew that my little boy was gone. I imagined that he was filled with those wire worms.

Soon after Luke came back, word began coming into the office that a number of patients’ parents had died. I pulled their charts and I don’t think I need to tell you what I found. Those were the children who’d been telling the same stories as Luke. I began to call families and friends of the children to give my condolences and check on the children. They all said the same thing: the children were in shock, they were not themselves, and many had been requesting to go to places like Disney World or football stadiums and the like. They’re trying to infect people, I thought. I asked if I could pay the children a visit and of course everyone welcomed the child’s therapist. Each child behaved the same as Luke, each child had elevated skin creases on their hands as well.  I managed to get ahold of the parents’ medical charts. Each had been diagnosed with brain hemorrhages. I theorized that while the children seemed to tolerate the wire worms, adults could not.

I spent the next month going over my recordings of the sessions with the alien abduction children as well as what I could remember of things Luke had told me before he became the shell that he was then. I searched the internet for cases of unexplained brain bleeds, strokes, burst aneurysms basically anything I could find to establish just how wide spread the threat might be. What I found left me breathless. It was happening everywhere, all over the world. The CDC as well as WHO were on alert and looking at it as possibly bio-terrorism vs an unidentified pathogen.  I sat there staring at my research notes. There are aliens abducting our children, using them as vectors to extinguish the human race. Whether the children will be “reprogrammed” and allowed to live under the laws of the aliens or if they will be sacrificed once their job is completed. Do the aliens want our earth for themselves? Are they truly protectors of the planets and we are the bad guys after all? I don’t know. What I do know is that we were here first, that they have taken our children from us in the first step to rid the Earth of our species. Now, they are using our children’s bodies to carry out the next phase of termination.

So, now I hope you understand why I did what I did and why I am about to do something so despicable that if I am wrong about any of this, I deserve to die which, either way I plan to do when my part is over. I can’t live with the loss of Luke even if he had to be sacrificed along with all the other children. If I can give more adults a fighting chance, they may have time to realize what is happening and do their own part to stop it. Once I am assured of it, I’ll eat the candy too, I promise.

Yes, the candy, God help me, the Halloween candy. I’ve poisoned every bit I could get my hands on. I used Luke in order to titrate to the right dose. Yes, yes, I poisoned him. And then I used that dose to inject into all the chocolate candy bars I could buy. I was so careful. I used an Exact-O knife to cut the bags open along the seam, injected each and every piece and used the thinnest layer of permanent glue to put the bags back together. It took me several tries to get a convincing “untampered with” look, but I’ve done it. Now to return the bags to the store, because dear me, I will now be out of town for Halloween and do not want it in my house. I bought some from every store in the county so to spread it out as much as possible. After that, I’ll go on a road trip to other counties and then other states if I can get away with it. I realize that adults will die too, but they will anyways if I don’t do something.

I’m not sure where I will be when this note is found or if I will even be alive, either way please know that I love my son. He is my whole heart. I love children and dedicated my life to their emotional well-being. It is with the heaviest heart that I do what I am about to do. I must keep telling myself: they are not our children anymore, they belong to the aliens. If we want an earth to leave to future generations, we must first take it back from our children.