The Day Before Halloween by Alyssa Grozier

Record Date: October 30th, 2008 . Glendale. The cute California community where uniqueness fails to exist. Each home on Sweetbriar Drive in Glendale, California looks as if it were painted with the same paint. And inside each house lives a perfectly designed family to match it. This particular street blends together with an array of color, except for the home on the lonely cul-de-sac at the end of the drive. This house, numbered 742, was an empty old grey house that no one has acknowledged in years. It was one of those “fixer-uppers” that no one wanted to fix. Nicole Burke was a middle-aged business woman apparently ready to take on that task. People say she bought the house as an investment. She decided to fix it up and rent the home as soon as possible to close friends and family members. At least that is the story she told. See Burke had been battling an addiction with prescription pills. She’d been in a horrific car accident and cracked her collarbone as well as two ribs. Pain pills popped every couple hours, but still pain. At the end of her healing, she’d become so used to the pills that she would get sick without them. No one on Sweetbriar Drive dreamed that Ms. Nicole Ann Burke, successful African-American executive, was buying a house for her addiction. The neighborhood greeted Ms. Burke with banana cream pies and fruit baskets. She and her pseudo persona acted grateful as she accepted the goods. After moving in, Burke was convinced she needed to decorate her house extravagantly, at least on the outside. She was desperate for separation from the neighbor’s blur of bright colors. During the first week of her arrival, she painted the house dark brown and added a light beige around the window sills. House 742 stood out on Sweetbriar drive and for the first time it wasn’t in a negative way. Neighbors started chattering away. Women in Glendale spread gossip as fast as the ladies on Desperate Housewives. Word on the street was that Burke’s boyfriend was a drug-dealer Burke shrugged it off. She couldn’t care less about their racial views and judgments. Her neighbors failed to see that inside this gorgeous home, the water leaked and the wooden floors stained with dirt. Burke had one television in one room with one couch. On a typical weekend, she took her drugs, watched a couple programs, laid around, and prepared for the week ahead’s work. After a month of decorating, Burke’s neighbors became suspicious. Burke had not had anyone move in the house and in fact…neighbors hadn’t even seen anyone look at it yet. Confrontation was something Burke wanted to avoid, and her neighbors too. Halloween was a grand occasion in Glendale. Celebrities took their famous children trick-or-treating, neighbors hosted cook-outs and parties, and people watched parades storm by on Halloween night. On Sweetbriar, each home was allowed a maximum of five Halloween decorations but a minimum of one.. This rule was never set it stone, but neighbors agreed on the idea at a community meeting. Burke was not aware of this rule but wasn’t into Halloween much anyways. Since she spent barely any time at the Glendale home, Burke passed on decorating for the holiday in general. Neighbors hoped on Halloween day Nicole would at least carve a pumpkin for her lawn. October 30th arrived and Burke awoke in her home in a drug-induced state. She was running on no sleep and relied on her pain pills to stay up through the night. She scrambled downstairs and noticed a light on in the living room. Hazy about the whole night before, she walked towards the light and stood in shock as she stared into the stranger’s eyes. His face was unlike anyone she’s ever seen. His eyes pierced her body and she noticed feeling like she couldn’t run if she tried. His expression was intense. Before she could open her mouth to say “Who the hell are you?”, her forehead was met with a 30 pound drainage pipe he was apparently concealing in his jacket. She saw black. No heaven for her successes. No hell for her sins. One last moment she felt what it was to feel, and then passed. Record Date: October 30th, 2008 . Oakland. The gang-ridden neighborhood in California was booming with police sirens the day that 17 year old Al Mitchell moved in to his first house. He had just been emancipated after his father shot his 35 year-old mother and then himself before Mitchell returned from school. Family urged Mitchell to stay with them until he turned18, but he insisted he needed to get away from his family and do his own thing. He did not want to end up like his father, living the dangerous ways of the drug and gang life. Al was attending a local community college, hoping to get his GED and graduate by his next birthday. Although things seemed to be looking up, he felt he had a void. He had always attracted women, but he had just escaped an unhealthy relationship. His heart ached for his ex-girlfriend, although his mind thanked him for staying away. The three years they spent together took a toll on Al mentally and physically. They had started out as teenagers in love, freshman who stayed after school to study and held hands at football games. But Nadia had started hanging out with the wrong crowd when she turned 15 and caused Al to start trouble in school. By the time Al finished his sophomore year, he had been suspended 27 times from fighting and decided to try dual-enrollment. His focus was off and he wanted to get back on track. He stayed with Nadia, however, because his love for her seemed to take control over anything else. Nadia’s constant instigating caused fights between the two, and after many cheating instances, Al finally broke away. Both Nadia and Al fell apart at this moment, but Al seemed to manage to keep his life in pieces. Nadia, on the other hand, didn’t. She crumbled like a pieces of glass when it hit’s the floor. This occurred around the same time Al’s father, Charlie “OG” Mitchell, shot and killed his mother then turned the gun on himself. Al returned from home around two o’clock from school to find the brutal discovery. He emancipated himself as soon as he spoke to police and family members. The money from his father’s drug lifestyle served to support Al and he bought his first apartment close to his Community College in Oakland. Little Mitchell was doing alright, considering the circumstances. His only support came from his grandmother all the way in Glendale, California. She was the only one who seemed to want Al to bring out the good in himself, rather than the other members who hinted that Al should carry on the “family business” and run the streets of Oakland. The night he moved in, Nadia called his phone asking if she could meet him at his new house. She claimed she wanted to help him move in and catch up on things. Mitchell refused, figuring she would just bring “her boys” to start a fight. Mitchell was finally in a place where he wanted to start progressing and working towards his future. Nadia grew angry the more he refused. She threatened to do exactly what he expected, and said she knew where he lived. He shrugged it off and continued with the moving. Mitchell unpacked and realized it was Halloween tomorrow. As he shifted through boxes, he picked up the phone and dialed his grandmother in Glendale. She nervously answered and told Al she there was going to be an intervention for his aunt Nicole. She said they had known about her pill addiction and recently set up a meeting with professionals to send her for help. The meeting was arranged for Halloween night, and Al’s grandmother was attending. Al was invited, but he declined. He was depressed as it is. Halloween happened to fall on a weekday, so Al divulged himself in staying busy to forget about his hurt. Nadia and her drama faded into the background. At about noon, it appears a noise in the kitchen awoke Al. He had evidently nodded off after reading a chapter of bio in his bedroom. Al sneaked downstairs and immediately spotted a figure in a heavy jacket and skin tight jeans. He had no time to think as he tasted the aluminum on the drainage pipe that was shoved down his throat. Al’s white eyes were painted red, and he hit the floor.