Short Cuts

The crunch of leaves beneath my shoes.

The smell of the leaves, both just fallen and ones that have weathered the ground for the past week.

The pent-up mix of excitement and a small bit of anxiety from all the children hangs in the air.

It all comes together in the smell of Halloween. The smell of candy in the air, leaves on the ground and children running, laughing and screaming all around you. 

I can feel my palms pressing into the concrete of the curb, the little pebbles leaving indentations on my hand.

I get up, a leaf, a collage of different colors, in my hand. As I wave at Ava and Noah, I crumple the leaf. Open my palm and the pieces of leaf scatter the same way Ava’s hair blows in the wind. It scatters behind her, making her look like some ethereal goddess, with long black hair, ghostly white skin in stark contrast to her brother’s deeply dark and gorgeous brown complexion.

The pair are polar opposites but best friends in the way two adopted siblings are.

I always knew their family; my mother and their mother were best friends, and five years ago, when I was ten, they decided to adopt a kid.

From what I knew, which granted isn’t much considering how unenjoyable relieving the memories from the foster system was for Ava and Noah, they had met when the pair was both around five and grew to become siblings through what happened to them. I had heard that when Ms. and Mr. Westfield met the two, they knew that they had to take them in.

No one talked about Ava and Noah’s pasts; no one wanted to, and the past didn’t matter during the present anyway.

“Hey, Peta!” Noah greeted, a smirk spread across his face. I scowled at him.

“You know I hate that nickname, Nohe!”

“Ok, Petra, let’s not start another nickname battle, especially on Halloween,” Ava chided.

“But they’re so much fun!” Ava gave me a look, and I decided it would be best if I shut up.

“Let’s all just walk home and get ready for going out,” Noah suggested, filling the silence.

The walk home was quick and quiet; everyone’s thoughts of their costumes outweighed their need to talk and pushed them to a faster pace. When we reached our neighboring houses, we paused for a moment. I went into the lilac one while the others entered the one with the light sage door.

Leaving my house, my witches' costume intact for the moment, I met up with Ava and Noah again. We exchanged greetings as if we hadn’t seen each other in years, rather than hours, and started walking.

“This is taking forever,” I complained, wishing at least one of us was old enough to drive.

“I think I know a shortcut,” Noah suggested.

“And it isn’t going to be like, through a dump or anything, right? Cuz the last time you said you knew a shortcut….”

“We don’t talk about that, remember Ava,” Noah said playfully, “and besides, this time it’s only a graveyard.”

I groaned internally. Why did Noah love strange shortcuts? A graveyard on Halloween, that’s just a terrific idea.

It was getting dark early today, only 6:30, and shadows colored the street with house lights, the only thing illuminating the path. 

I opened my mouth, about to say something. “DON’T YOU DARE ASK IF WE’RE ALMOST THERE YET AGAIN!!!”

“Jezz, dude, I wasn’t going to ask that.” I rolled my eyes. “I was just going to ask if that’s the graveyard.”

I was pointing at an iron gate, leading to an ominous-looking copse of trees accompanied by a collage of muted colored rocks in the distance, all of various shapes and sizes.

Noah sighed, “Yes, it is.”

I was looking at the news. “Today is November 3rd. Three days ago, three children went missing and never returned. No one has seen them since Halloween night, heading to a party. If you hear anything about Luanna Marie or Noah, and Ava Westfield, please contact the number on screen. The children’s pictures are on screen next to the number.”

I tried to scream, but I couldn’t.