With the cold of the night, you suppose this wasn't the best costume idea. No, a post apocalyptic outfit with tears and drags in the oversized t-shirt and jeans, along with tight converse all-stars with your toes sticking out? No. Bandage around your head? If you want people asking what happened, there you go. A golden watch on a chain around your neck, well, that's reasonable. A butterfly knife hidden in your jeans? Cool factor +2000.

A choice to go inside of the house for the party (that you weren't necessarily invited to)? Dangerous, but hell, you're fucking freezing.

After grabbing some punch (probably spiked with alcohol, I mean, you're in your first year of highschool) and bumping into random people from school that you'd rather not be within a 100 foot radius of, you attempt to leave. Yeah, an attempt. This house is jam-fucking-packed with teenagers. Sexy, scary, normal, pretty, and some with even no costume on. But mostly sexy. You? Uh, you're a loser and not scary at all. Again, you're a loser and not normal at all. then we can just cross out everything else. Onward with this costume nonsense, you're trapped. Familiar and unfamiliar faces pass you by. Eventually, you just stop trying. Moved by the crowd, which was mainly pushing and shoving by the crowd, you find yourself stumbling right into someone's back.

"Oh, (y/n) hey man." Sara, one you may call a friend, turns around to greet you. To you, she's that one friend who you have fun with, laugh and all that, but never really talk about deep stuff or anything. You don't know how she doesn't realize Wirt's huge crush on her, though. Jason Funderberker, however, at least that one she knows. You never really got what everyone sees in that kid. Sure, he's funny, but really? It's only because he's so bad with social interaction that he's good at it.

A few other of your friends and aquaintences turn to you, smiling and greeting you as well. "Hey guys. What're you doing later? I've got nothing, hope I can tag along." Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Wirt fidgiting and growing a bit angry now that Funderberker has arrived. Typical.

One of Sara's friends chimed in, "We're going to the graveyard," She said, squinting her eyes and wiggling her fingers, "You too scared to come?" She mocked you. Again. BUT, in YOUR defense, graveyards on Halloween are scary as Hell. Especially at midnight. Which it is right now. Everyone's eyes locked on you, waiting for an answer. You stumbled over your own words,

"N- I'm not scared!" Yes, you are scared. "Ill stay out there all night!" Shut your mouth or you'll get yourself in trouble. "Of course I'm coming!" You ruined it, (y/n). Say goodbye to your chances of getting a boyfriend or girlfriend in highschool.

"Neato! Let's head there now, then!" Sara led the group, gently pulling your arm along with. Oh God.

This was a terrible mistake.

Okay, you're scared as hell and all, but you can clearly see Wirt trying to hide behind the gravestone. You're all in a circle right now, sitting on knees and crossed legs and basically however we need to in order to preserve our thirty-dollar Walmart costumes. Yours? Easily identified as a hand-made costume that consisted of old clothing, scissors, and ace bandages. Speaking of costumes, what the hell is Jason supposed to be? A man in a suit? Oh wait. Yeah, I get it now.

"...and then... a guy with an axe showed up!" Wirt squints as everyone in the group laughs. Including you, but like everyone else it was pretty fake. "And then he got closer, and closer..." Cue Wirt's top blowing off. You can barely see the words 'Go Greg. Now' form on his lips. And of course, right after Jason leaves both his small, fragile hands on Sara's, Greg comes out, Trying to make a distraction. For what, you don't really know. Wirt has a mind of his own.

Okay. So, you keep bringing up this guy Wirt. Well, this guy Wirt is basically the ultimate loser in your school... and as much as you'd like to say opposite, but you're right next. The second-losery person in the school. Whoop-dee-fucking-doo. You'd think that the two losers would be friends right? Since they don't have their own? Well, sorry buddy, but that ain't true. You have most classes together, lockers near each other to evade the school Dick squad, and, uh, you... think you've said hi once? Basically, you're aquaintences that don't ever talk. You notice each other, but it's nothing more than that. The only reason you're paying so much attention to him is because of his pathetic attempt to woo Sara.

The whole group started to laugh at Greg, and he began to laugh along. Another one of Sara's friends questioned where Wirt was, which pointing to his older step-brother made everyone laugh a bit more, since he ducked down but his red, pointy hat couldn't hide. He stood up, laughing nervously and rubbing the back of his neck. "W-well, you see-" And that's where the cops came in.

"Hey! This is private property! What is this, a witches' gathering?" Blared from the speaker on top of their vehicle.

"Dude! Scatter!" You hear among the crowd as everyone begins running away. You start to follow them, but since you were running quickly, You trip and fall over your own two feet. Stumbling back up, you look around and turn your head every which way, but the group ran somewhere into the dark. Your heart started beating faster as the cop's light shown onto you. "What do I do what do I DO!" You glance to the tree and see Wirt and Greg climbing up. Perfect! Awkward, maybe, but perfect!

You dart to the tree and climb the best you can.

Wirt looks down and sees you following them, "What are you doing?!" You get a hi and a fistful of candy to the face from Greg.

"Same thing as you, idiot. Climb!"

Time seemed to fly when you jumped over that garden wall.