The Sugar Sucker
Copyright © 2010 by Heather Payer-Smith
CRINKLE, CRINKLE… SMACK, SMACK, SMACK.
Donald reached under the bed into his trick-or-treat bag and grabbed a handful of candy. He dropped the assortment onto his blanket. With sausage-like fingers, he peeled away the wrapper of a miniature chocolate bar.
“Donald Kingsley!” His mother hollered. “You’d better not be eating more candy!”
Donald stuffed the pile of candy wrappers under his pillow, turned out his light and bounced into bed.
The door to his room squeaked opened.
“Donald…” his mother peeked her head into the room. “I know you’re awake. I saw the light under your door.”
Donald sat up and crossed his arms. Pieces of candy fell off of his bed.
“It’s Halloween! Everyone else gets to eat all their candy.”
Donald’s mother flipped on the light. Candy corn and gummy worms littered the floor. Licorice wrappers covered the nightstand. Empty boxes of cinnamon chews were squashed beside the trashcan.
“Donald...” his mother sighed, shaking her head. “You’re going to have nightmares.”
“I’m too old for nightmares,” Donald argued. “Besides, candy doesn’t give you bad dreams.”
“If you say so,” she shrugged. “I just hope the sugar sucker doesn’t come to get you.”
“What’s a sugar sucker?” Donald asked, rolling his eyes and stuffing a lollipop in his mouth.
“The sugar sucker is a terrible monster that comes on Halloween night. It sniffs around for kids that have eaten too much candy. When it finds these kids,” she crept toward Donald, “it BITES them and sucks all the sugar-sweet blood out of them!”
She snatched the lollipop out of Donald’s mouth.
‘HEY!” he protested, swatting his chubby hands at her. “Give it back!”
“You’ve had enough. Go to bed.” She stuck the lollipop in her mouth.
“That’s fine. I have more.”
“No more candy, Donald. Think of the sugar sucker.” She slurped the lollipop, making an awful, sucking noise.
“Gross, Mom.”
“Goodnight, Donald. No more sweets.” She flicked the light off and closed the door.
Donald dug under his bed and collected another handful of candy.
“Sugar sucker,” he scoffed, ripping open a package of malt balls.
CRUNCH, CRUNCH, CRUNCH… gulp.
THUD.
Donald froze.
THUD – SCRAPE.
“Knock it off, Mom. I know it’s you.”
Donald grabbed his flashlight to better examine the candy selection.
“Milk Duds!” he cooed, tearing the small box. He stuffed his mouth and bit down, letting the chocolate melt between his lips.
SCRAPE…. SCRAPE….
Shivers danced down Donald’s spine.
“Mock ip oth. Om!” He chewed and swallowed hard. “I’m not afraid of your stupid story!”
A shadow moved across the wall. Donald shined his flashlight around the room, searching. Nothing. He sighed and laughed at himself.
THUD – SCRAAAAAPE.
The sound came from under his bed.
Donald felt goose bumps prickle his skin. His face became hot, his arms weak.
“It’s just Mom trying to scare me.”
THUD. BUMP. CRINKLE, CRINKLE….
“Hey!” Donald shouted, jumping out of bed. “My candy!”
He grabbed his flashlight and ducked under the bed, reaching for his candy bag. The flashlight caught the glow of two large, red eyes. A scream caught in Donald’s throat. Sharp claws grabbed his hand and pulled.
Donald squirmed away from the bed and searched the wall for the light switch. He flicked the light on and watched in terror as a gnarled hand with twisted claws popped out from under the bed.
Suck… Suck…. SLURP!!!! Donald heard.
Terrified, he screamed and raced down the hall to his parents’ room.
“MOM!! DAD!! The sugar sucker is in my room!!!” He panted and shook at the foot of their bed.
His father turned the bedside lamp on.
“Donald, what are you doing up this late?”
“Didn’t you hear me? The sugar sucker monster is in my room!!”
“Oh Donald,” his mother yawned. “I was joking… there’s no such thing.”
“Come see for yourself!!” Donald pleaded.
Reluctantly, his mother followed Donald to his room. There was no sign of any monster.
“I swear it was right under the bed!”
His mother knelt down and peered beneath the bed.
“Oh heavens!” she cried, reaching under the bed. She pulled out an empty trick-or-treat bag.
“No wonder you’re having nightmares! You ate an entire bag of Halloween candy!!”
“No! I swear I didn’t! It must have been the monster! You’ve gotta believe me!”
“Go to bed, Donald.”
His mother turned off the light and closed the door.
Donald stood in the dark, listening. Nothing.
“Did I really imagine it all?”
THUD. THUD, SCRAPE……
Copyright © 2010 by Heather Payer-Smith
CRINKLE, CRINKLE… SMACK, SMACK, SMACK.
Donald reached under the bed into his trick-or-treat bag and grabbed a handful of candy. He dropped the assortment onto his blanket. With sausage-like fingers, he peeled away the wrapper of a miniature chocolate bar.
“Donald Kingsley!” His mother hollered. “You’d better not be eating more candy!”
Donald stuffed the pile of candy wrappers under his pillow, turned out his light and bounced into bed.
The door to his room squeaked opened.
“Donald…” his mother peeked her head into the room. “I know you’re awake. I saw the light under your door.”
Donald sat up and crossed his arms. Pieces of candy fell off of his bed.
“It’s Halloween! Everyone else gets to eat all their candy.”
Donald’s mother flipped on the light. Candy corn and gummy worms littered the floor. Licorice wrappers covered the nightstand. Empty boxes of cinnamon chews were squashed beside the trashcan.
“Donald...” his mother sighed, shaking her head. “You’re going to have nightmares.”
“I’m too old for nightmares,” Donald argued. “Besides, candy doesn’t give you bad dreams.”
“If you say so,” she shrugged. “I just hope the sugar sucker doesn’t come to get you.”
“What’s a sugar sucker?” Donald asked, rolling his eyes and stuffing a lollipop in his mouth.
“The sugar sucker is a terrible monster that comes on Halloween night. It sniffs around for kids that have eaten too much candy. When it finds these kids,” she crept toward Donald, “it BITES them and sucks all the sugar-sweet blood out of them!”
She snatched the lollipop out of Donald’s mouth.
‘HEY!” he protested, swatting his chubby hands at her. “Give it back!”
“You’ve had enough. Go to bed.” She stuck the lollipop in her mouth.
“That’s fine. I have more.”
“No more candy, Donald. Think of the sugar sucker.” She slurped the lollipop, making an awful, sucking noise.
“Gross, Mom.”
“Goodnight, Donald. No more sweets.” She flicked the light off and closed the door.
Donald dug under his bed and collected another handful of candy.
“Sugar sucker,” he scoffed, ripping open a package of malt balls.
CRUNCH, CRUNCH, CRUNCH… gulp.
THUD.
Donald froze.
THUD – SCRAPE.
“Knock it off, Mom. I know it’s you.”
Donald grabbed his flashlight to better examine the candy selection.
“Milk Duds!” he cooed, tearing the small box. He stuffed his mouth and bit down, letting the chocolate melt between his lips.
SCRAPE…. SCRAPE….
Shivers danced down Donald’s spine.
“Mock ip oth. Om!” He chewed and swallowed hard. “I’m not afraid of your stupid story!”
A shadow moved across the wall. Donald shined his flashlight around the room, searching. Nothing. He sighed and laughed at himself.
THUD – SCRAAAAAPE.
The sound came from under his bed.
Donald felt goose bumps prickle his skin. His face became hot, his arms weak.
“It’s just Mom trying to scare me.”
THUD. BUMP. CRINKLE, CRINKLE….
“Hey!” Donald shouted, jumping out of bed. “My candy!”
He grabbed his flashlight and ducked under the bed, reaching for his candy bag. The flashlight caught the glow of two large, red eyes. A scream caught in Donald’s throat. Sharp claws grabbed his hand and pulled.
Donald squirmed away from the bed and searched the wall for the light switch. He flicked the light on and watched in terror as a gnarled hand with twisted claws popped out from under the bed.
Suck… Suck…. SLURP!!!! Donald heard.
Terrified, he screamed and raced down the hall to his parents’ room.
“MOM!! DAD!! The sugar sucker is in my room!!!” He panted and shook at the foot of their bed.
His father turned the bedside lamp on.
“Donald, what are you doing up this late?”
“Didn’t you hear me? The sugar sucker monster is in my room!!”
“Oh Donald,” his mother yawned. “I was joking… there’s no such thing.”
“Come see for yourself!!” Donald pleaded.
Reluctantly, his mother followed Donald to his room. There was no sign of any monster.
“I swear it was right under the bed!”
His mother knelt down and peered beneath the bed.
“Oh heavens!” she cried, reaching under the bed. She pulled out an empty trick-or-treat bag.
“No wonder you’re having nightmares! You ate an entire bag of Halloween candy!!”
“No! I swear I didn’t! It must have been the monster! You’ve gotta believe me!”
“Go to bed, Donald.”
His mother turned off the light and closed the door.
Donald stood in the dark, listening. Nothing.
“Did I really imagine it all?”
THUD. THUD, SCRAPE……
