My Miserable Life Read Online Free Page B

followed her two-pieces-per-weekend rule, the candy would last me for a year’s worth of weekends. I could almost taste the hard sugar crackling against my teeth and the chocolate melting on my tongue.
    But when we got home, Mom said, “Time for the Halloween Fairy.”
    I looked at her with dread.
    â€œYou can keep three pieces for tonight, okay?” she added, smiling like she was doing me a big favor.

    â€œSeriously, Mom? Seriously? You’ve got to be kidding me, Mom?” I was so upset I was talking in question marks like she did.

    â€œOkay, would you like five pieces? The Halloween Fairy will give you a gift certificate if you leave her the rest, okay, Ben?” She picked up a basket she’d set by the door. “Would you like an apple?”
    Hadn’t she heard that you can’t give out apples for Halloween? No one in their right mind gave out apples! I had barely eaten any candy, and I felt like I was going to throw up.
    I was trying not to cry.
    â€œWhat five pieces do you want, Ben?” my mom asked.
    I picked the biggest candy bars and stuffed them into my mouth. I didn’t even enjoy them. The whole night was ruined.
    And if you think that was bad, wait till you hear what happened next. The doorbell rang, and my mom ran to answer it. She was holding the apple basket, and her wings were getting caught on furniture and dripping feathers everywhere. Monkeylad was following her in his hot-dog bun. I heard her talking to the kids at the door, and then she called out, “Ben, can you come here?”
    I don’t know why I did it. I was like a robot. I walked slowly toward the door, and there were three trick-or-treaters standing on the step. There was a boy dressed as a werewolf, a girl dressed as a vampire with tiny plastic fangs and a red velvet cape, and a kid with the same costume as mine. Only better. It was the version with the beating, bleeding heart and the blood that spurted out and dripped down the mask face when you squeezed the pump. And the kid? It was Rocko Hoggen. He was with Leif Zuniga and Serena Perl.
    â€œHi, Ben,” Serena said. She had glitter around her eyes, and it sparkled in the porch light. “I didn’t know you lived here. Your dog is cute. Are you okay?”

    â€œHey,” I said, looking down at my feet, away from her glitter eyes, away from her dimples, away from her braids, away from her fangs.
    A cop came up behind them. He was over six feet tall and bald. “Excuse me, ma’am, are you handing out apples to these kids?”
    My mom took a step back and almost dropped the apple basket.
    The man laughed and adjusted his black stretch pants. “Just kidding. I’m not really a cop. But some kids are going to use the apples to bomb cars. You really can’t give out apples on Halloween anymore,” he said.
    â€œWell, at least they’re healthy,” my mom said. “You gave me a little scare there. I think our kids know each other?”
    â€œI’m Peter Hoggen,” the cop said. “Nice to meet you.”
    My mom shook his hand and smiled. “I’m Ben’s mom,” she said. “Basically I just go by that now. Ben’s Mom. Angelina’s Mom.”
    â€œLooks like our boys have the same costume, Ben’s Mom,” Peter Hoggen said. “Almost.”
    Rocko pressed the button that made his heart light up and seep blood.
    Was I in a bad monster movie? Was I in ten-year-old-boy hell? No, I was in my own miserable life.
    â€œAre you sure you don’t want an apple?” my mom asked.
    The cop had already walked away, waving his hand over his head and chuckling to himself. “An apple a day doesn’t keep the cops away on Halloween.”
    â€œUh, that’s okay,” Rocko said to my mom’s apple. “Our bags are kind of full. Bye, Ben. Nice costume. Hope that cakewalk cake was good.”
    â€œBye, Ben,” said Leif Zuniga. “See you