The Candy House

I saw a dove singing on a tree branch that day. It sang with a beautiful voice like an angel, but when I came near, it glanced at me sadly and flew away.

I was entering middle school this year. There were so many new faces at the entrance ceremony, except for my brother. I wondered why I didn't see even one of my old elementary friends, but it was okay. I had Hansel, and for orphaned twins, all we needed was each other and that was enough.

Everyone there was really kind. No matter how many times I bumped into someone, spilled art supplies, or neglected homework, I was forgiven. This was a really wonderful school, and it was almost half a year since I began attending.

"Gretel!" I heard a voice behind me. A messy haired blond boy ran up to my desk with a smile. "Guess what? The teacher said you didn't have to take the quiz today!"

"Hansel!" I replied in delight. Then a frown surfaced. "That's good...I didn't study yesterday. But what about you and the rest of the class?"

"Don't worry about it. Don't feel pressured. I think I got an A," He said dismissively. "Let's go play! School's over in a few minutes, and I'm done with my quiz, so let's go!"

"All right." I grinned. But inside, I felt suspicious. What was going on? Since the beginning of the year, everybody--not just the teachers!--was treating me so nicely. It's like they were trying to make sure I wasn't going anywhere. The even weirder part was, before entering Westwood Middle School, my memories have been extremely fuzzy.

Westwood Middle was a pretty large building, made out of standard red brick with a flat rooftop. It had more students than I thought middle schools usually did, and the outdoor grounds were gigantic, full of every kind of sport, every kind of hobby. It was an ideal school, one I'd always dreamed of attending...but the atmosphere was strange. The weather was never bad, there were never any pesky bugs, and the school was so uniform and perfect, it made me nervous sometimes. Even the trees were too perfect, like they were made and not grown.

But I had Hansel, and that was everything to me. He was the one always by my side, the one I would lay down my life to protect, the only real family I'd ever had. And he was just as devoted to me as I him, so I knew he would never hurt me. Lately, his behavior was as strangely kind as the others, but I was sure if he had a problem, he'd tell me.

"Let's play Candy House again," I told him, brushing away my dubious thoughts. Candy House was a game inspired when we were young. It was simple--you hid somewhere outdoors, and the person trying to find you would read clues left behind until you found the other. The name "Candy House" was mostly to honor the day of miracles.

We were street rat orphans before, with barely anything to eat. Whenever we got something we couldn't split, we couldn't bear to take it rather than the other twin. Instead, we decided it to settle it by a game called Candy House. It started when we knocked on a house's door, but the lady refused to give us a thing. Her daughter felt bad, but having no power, could only throw us a few pieces of candy. That day neither of us wanted to eat more than the other, and there was an odd number.

It was silly, looking back on it, but even one piece could make a difference in those times. That day, Hansel and I were separated. The lady found out and tried to chase us away. My head was badly hurt, but I convinced Hansel to run away first with the candy. I thought I was going to bleed to death, even when the lady left, but I saw little pieces of peppermint in a line. Hansel had left a trail, and we were reunited. A man saw this happen, took us in, and now we were living a happy life.

I didn't understand why this memory flooded into me. A sad nostalgia sparked, and I didn't know why. Almost as if a chunk of that story was missing, like some template was deleted in my mind. Hansel was right here. I was fine. We weren't going anywhere.