Ṡṁëḷḷṡ Ḷïḳë Ṫëëṅ Äṅġṡẗ (M. Wheeler)

Ch. 2 | Trick or Treat, Freak

Hey guys! Chap 2! Hope you enjoy!

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Dylan looked in the mirror, exhaling loudly.

Today was the day—a day amongst the classification of which he despised most.

It was Halloween.

Aka, a fucking holiday.

Dylan hated them all—why? Because people's emissions were off the motherfucking charts.

Meaning their emotions and feelings were stronger, which led to Dylan's Sense Range being increased from 2 miles to like, 10; which sucked balls because the feelings he felt? They were always the shittiest ones.

Halloween was the one of the three he hated most, along with Valentine's Day and Christmas, for obvious reasons—but Halloween was up there with them because what he felt was a bunch of excited children, whininess and disappointment when they didn't get what they wanted, tons upon tons irrational horror, and harrowing sugar highs from the result of irresponsible parenting—and yeah, Dylan felt that too.

It made him dislike the Sense because he wasn't tryna be bombarded with all this bullshit at night when he was just trying to sleep—yes, he said sleep; Dylan didn't like going trick or treating at all. In fact, he couldn't stand it.

First off, it surrounded him with the people whose feelings he was trying to avoid; secondly, it made him irritated feeling all that shit, although he concealed this very well and you'd simply just think he was tired if you saw him—when really he'd feel like taking a real knife it and actually giving these children something to scream in fear about; and thirdly, he just didn't find the fun in it. Dylan looked candy n'all, but he didn't see the point of going out of his way walking up to random strangers' doors just to get some. It wasn't fun—it was a hassle.

Plus, why did he need to dress up for them to give it to him? What was the point of that either?

Additionally, his habit of scrutinizing and criticizing everything seemingly redundant—which were many, many, many things—also tended to draw the fun out of things for him. But he couldn't really help it; it was like that since he was a kid. Billy used to take him trick or treating back in Cali which was fun, but even back then the joy didn't come from the activity itself; it came from spending time with his big brother—and his mother before she decided to leave.

But he knew he'd have to go out this year—Max wanted him to and Neil and Susan didn't want her alone because, and quote, "it was a new town and Maxine could get lost all by herself." Dylan knew she could handle her own very well (the girl was dressing up as Michael Myers for fucks sake), but he'd been planning on going with her anyway for the simple reason that Max wanted him to come. She wanted to get him out of his room and Dylan couldn't say no to the puppy dog eyes she gave him—they always guilt-tripped him into doing what she wanted which honestly, was quite annoying.

"Dylan! Hurry up and put your costume on already, and let's go!!" His brother yelled irritably.

Dylan rolled his eyes and grabbed his bag and skateboard, exiting the room. "I'm not dressing up," he said, entering the kitchen where Max and Billy were waiting for him. "Just contemplating death." He wasn't dressing up at school, not because he was embarrassed or anything, but because he couldn't care less to get himself a costume—it wasn't like he was dressing up tonight either, no matter how lame Max would call him when she found out.

Max rolled her eyes. "Relax, you'll be fine," she said, punching his arm lightly as Billy grabbed his car keys.

He nudged Dylan's arm. "Hey, why dress up when you'll be masking that irritation on your face all day?" He grinned sardonically. Dylan just glowered at him.