In this story, I was somewhere around 11. It took place on Halloween night. The sky was an ominous shade of dark grey, and the moon was barely visible. Every year, I would go trick-or-treating with my two good friends, and we would walk around one of their neighborhoods with pillow cases asking strangers for candy. In this story, let’s call my friends Ashley and Emily. Ashley lived in a gated community, so my parents felt I was very safe to be trick-or-treating there. Besides, the parents would stay close to us whichever house we went to.
We went from house to house, asking for candy, and just had a great time.
It was getting late, but we were determined to go to as many houses we could before the parents decided to head back to Ashley’s house, where everyone would meet up. A few of my friend’s younger siblings began to complain, saying that they were tired and that they wanted to go back home, which was ironic, seeing that younger kids usually have the best time during Halloween.
The parents were about to turn back to head back to Ashley’s house, but my friends and I begged them to let us trick-or-treat at a few more houses. They were skeptical about this, because Emily’s parents were pretty overprotective, but they decided we were finally old enough to walk a few blocks back to Ashley’s house by ourselves. We thought this was going to be the best night of our lives. No parents to boss us around, just us and bags of candy. Boy, were we wrong.