Hard, butterscotch candy tried to end me.
“Never eat these unless you ask first,” Mom warned.
Immediately, those golden pieces of heaven with matching cellophane called my name.My friend, Jan and I played with our dolls, our moms chatted. Taking a water break, I spotted the butterscotch in a dish on the table. My craving so intense I nearly wet my pants.
No one looking, I snatched a piece; stuffing it in my pocket. A thrill preceded a flash of guilt. Stealing is wrong. I didn’t care. A rare birth of disobedience.
I rushed Jan to our dolls. I pulled the candy from my pocket.
“Oh! You took candy! You’re not supposed to!” Jan admonished.
“Don’t you tell,” I warned.
Jan wavered not sure if she should tattle.
“Want some?” I offered, looking for a partner in crime. Eyes wide, declining, Jan shook her head.
Unwrapping the candy, it stuck to my sweaty palm. Salivating, I shoved the slick candy in my mouth. Buttery sweetness enveloped me. I drooled a bit trying to swallow my gooey spit.
Jan looked frightened. I gulped, the butterscotch followed, stopping at my throat. Wiggling my tongue, the demon candy wouldn’t budge. I choked. No air was moving past the candy. My eyes teared and I thought, “I’m gonna be in trouble!”
Panicking, Jan cried, “I’m getting my mom!” I shook my head, grabbing her arm. Fear of punishment and death, I sobbed, saliva surrounded the candy dislodging it.
The huge disc inched down my throat causing an awful squeezing pain. I gasped a partial breath. Dropping my hands to my knees, Jan bolted.
I heard fearful shouting. Mom threw her arms around me getting snot and butterscotch spit on her shirt. I bawled. After she saw I was breathing, I was in trouble.