“Hard Candy”

Remember those strawberry candies? Yeah, you already know the ones I’m talking about. The ones in those little foil wrappers with the strawberry prints on them. The little red candies with the juicy center that tastes like the lovechild of a jolly rancher and a cough drop. The kind only found at the bottom of grandma’s purse or permanently in her candy dish, a never-ending supply. 

Those are my favorite candies. 

I know what you’re thinking, “those aren’t anyone’s favorite candies,” well you’re wrong. Everything you think is wrong. Everything you’ve ever been taught is wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. And it’s not out of a sense of nostalgia, they’re genuinely my favorite candies. I buy them in bulk and keep them on hand at all times. I don’t particularly enjoy the flavor, the wrappings are a nuisance to pick up around my apartment. 

I like them because they’re dangerous. 

Sure, all hard candy is dangerous if you’re not careful, but there’s something so deceptively alluring about the strawberry candies. Peppermint swirls are used to decorate gingerbread houses, seldom enjoyed over their cane counterparts. Werther’s originals are only for the aging and infirmed, those who already have so little left to lose. Warheads are for children who have something to prove, who dance with danger only to have it spit out, discarded. And jawbreakers… well, they’re far too predictable. There’s a damn movie based on their danger, for goodness' sake. 

The little strawberries, though, they’re my favorite because they’re unassuming. 

People only have fond memories associated with them. They make you think of kindhearted grandmothers, of the only good parts of waiting rooms, of easing nerves. They lull you into a false sense of calm. And that’s why they’re the perfect candy treat. 

Because no one ever expects it when they’re choking to death on one. 

From the moment you set your sights on the candy dish to when I so kindly offered you one, your fate was already sealed. You fumbled with childlike delight at the wrapper, never able to remove it in one sweeping motion, giving me just the right amount of time to plan my next move. From the moment you looked at me, bewildered, as I retrieved the sweet delight from my purse to when you quickly popped it in your mouth, I was poised, ready. 

It’s the juicy center people always take for granted. Unlike other candies that are all shell and no substance, the strawberry treats give you that last burst, that last rush, that last moment of pleasure before it’s all gone.  

It’s right before you get to that point, I can see it in your eyes. The way the candy shifts in your mouth, the way you unclench, that’s when I know it’s time. 

You never see the knife coming before that point. But when you do? I wish I could take a picture of the look in your eyes. Oh, who am I kidding? I’ve got plenty of those photos. I carry them in my wallet, should anyone wish to see. 

What’s really funny, though, downright hilarious, even, is that the knife was never meant to cause you any harm. It’s just a prop, nothing more, nothing less. Too bad you were so frightened, maybe you wouldn’t have choked. Maybe you would have found my joke funny if you were alive to see the punchline. Maybe you would have gotten the chance to enjoy that juicy center the same way I enjoyed watching you. Maybe you’d consider these candies to be your favorite, too, if only you were still alive.