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alcoholism, cycle of abuse, family, family rules

Taking Candy from Babies

Halloweeen was always a fun time of year for me and John. We were able to dress up and be kids for a little while. My mother would stay home passing out candy to the many children who would trick or treat. My father would take us out at sundown to get our candy fill. It was a good day. Usually we had five or six kids at a time going with us. We’d go for hours until the neighbors started turning off their lights.

John and I would always spread out our candy on the family room floor and inspect everything. There were always horror stories about one or two local kids getting hurt by bad guys putting bad things in candy. When John and I inspected our candy, we would also trade up candy. We always knew who liked what candy best. It worked out well for the two of us. I usually ended up with so much candy that it would last for a couple of weeks. I would eat everything good, but save the very best for last. This way I always had some good candy left over.

The last year we trick or treated in my childhood home, it was a particularly good year for candy. I had so much candy that it lasted for weeks. John and I continued to trade up candy. We would brag about who had the better candy this year. It was all in good fun with this rivalry. I left my bag of candy in my room every day and would come home and find it sitting on my bed where I left it. Then one day, it was just gone. I only had about seven pieces of the most premium candy of the batch left in my bag. And it was gone. I went hunting down my bag of candy thinking John had taken it. His bag of candy was also gone. We didn’t know what was going on. My mother came in and saw us talking. She told us both that she had thrown away the candy. We had had enough candy and that was that.

I couldn’t believe it. I cried and asked her for my candy. She told me to go in my room.
It was a mean thing to do to a child. There was absolutely no reason to throw away my candy.
There was no reason to throw away John’s candy. There was almost nothing left. The only reason I
ever could think up with was spite. She just didn’t want us to be happy. Nothing made me happier than that bag
of candy every day after school. I would come home for weeks and eat just one piece. Then it was taken
away from me. It made me very sad. I cried that day after school. The next day after school I went into my
bedroom hoping to find my candy restored to me since my mother had seen how unhappy she made me. There was
no such luck. The candy was gone.

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About advocateformutiny

I will not be silent anymore.

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