She sat cross-legged on her bed looking out the open window. The breeze pushed her curtain out of the way angrily revealing a crescent moon which looked sharp enough to slice through through the night. A box of unopened Halloween treats sat at the entrance of her apartment next to a silent door. She didn't even really acknowledge the few kids who stopped by her place with open bags and smiling faces. Today was something so much more than latex masks and snickers bars. Her eyes drifted from the open window to a box poking out from under her bed. It was old and faded, a tiny label curling up near the top right-hand side. Sighing she picked it up and ran her fingers along the edges, examining every tear and snag as if it would unlock a secret passage way like in one of those old ancient-tomb movies.
Today was the 10th anniversary of this special box. October 31st. Halloween. It was also the 10th anniversary of her father 's incarceration and the creation of Sarah Walker, federal agent. She wiped away an angry tear with the back of her hand as she removed the lid and looked at its contents. Of the money her father had left for her those 10 years ago, very little remained. The sparse amount of bills in the box were mostly for sentimental value. She didn't need to resort to this small stash with her government salary,and of course with the pocket change provided by her cover job at a frozen yogurt shop. She just liked to remind herself what her safety net consisted of every now and then; a few thinning strands of disappointment patched with five dollar bills.
She had a hard time believing ten years had passed since she joined the bureau. She was only seventeen years old when her father left her to fend for herself. Of course, she argued internally, she had been fending for herself for quite a long time before he was sent away. She had to do most of her growing up without any parent s in a top secret branch of the government, and because of this she felt underdeveloped. She felt like she was lacking something substantial that everyone else had but couldn't quite put her finger on it. Of course she looked normal and acted normal on the outside; it was all part of the charade. No one, not even she, knew the real person inside this shell. It was locked so deep down inside and she had felt she lost the key. Silently cursing the person who said 'time heals all wounds' , she kicked the box back under her bed and willed herself to stop the tears in their tracks.
Before last year, however, she was starting to piece herself back together. She was becoming confident in her lies and assumptions about herself and felt as if she was beginning to heal. She had built up so many walls on every side and it was impossible to see through Inside this fortress . She assembled her identity with bits she liked, piece by piece. She hated olives. She liked boxing. She hated working in the food service industry. Her walls, however, were knocked down very quickly with one small mission and two sad eyes. Unsuccessfully, she tried to rebuild. But Chuck made it impossible because for some strange reason he saw through the lies, the one word answers, and the half-truths. He demanded more from her, and she felt, sometimes, like he deserved it. He pushed her farther than anyone ever had. Bryce? No. No, Bryce didn't care about Sarah's past. He accepted that it was difficult to talk about. He treated her somewhat coldly, like an assignment. Her father's motto in life was 'don't ask questions' so she never had a problem there. Chuck was different from the other people that from time to time fluttered through her life. With him there were no secrets, no lies, and no regrets. His life, unlike hers, was an open book which he encouraged her to read like an old favorite and become attached to the characters.
He had told her that she would never be normal and this was true. He had poured his heart out, not once, but several times to her only to receive vague answers or blank stares in return. He never quit, and in that regard, they were similar. She didn't have the heart to tell him that she didn't feel the same way. She didn't have the heart to let him become the victim of another unrequited love story. Or perhaps she didn't have the heart to give up whatever small piece of her the FBI had given her those ten years ago. The one, small piece that was so insignificant, but at the same time defined her. For once in her adult life, Sarah Walker had run into a brick wall that she could not get around and no amount of gunfire could blow it up. She knew she had to make one of the toughest decisions of her life, and she wondered if she was mature enough decide and because of this, it kept being put off.
The door bell rang shrilly disrupting her troubling thoughts . She got up off the bed and walked towards the door, grabbing a fistful of candies from a bowl on the counter as she did so. With her empty hand, she opened the door only to reveal Chuck wearing a brown trench-coat soaked in fake blood.
"Trick or treat," he said obnoxiously, causing her to crack a smile as she handing him her fistful of candies which he gladly shoved into a pocket.
"Chuck aren't you a little old for Halloween?" Sarah placed a hand on her hip as she examined his costume. She had no idea who or what he was, but it was interesting nonetheless.
"Sarah," he said through a mouthful of bubblegum, "when one stops believing in Halloween, they lose a part of their soul. Look at Casey for example." She laughed and said he had a point as she sat back down on her bed. Swinging a bag out from behind his back, Chuck handed her a red and white costume.
"What... what are we.. what's this?" Sarah spit out, examining the costume in her hands. "We're not trick-or-treating...?"
"No," Chuck exclaimed, laughing, "it's the Buy More's annual Halloween Party, I thought you'd enjoy it. And I also assumed, correctly I may add, that you wouldn't have a costume. So now we match. Try it on!"
Sarah unfolded the costume to reveal a cheerleader's costume, also soaked in blood. She raised an eyebrow and looked up at Chuck.
"I don't get it."
"Don't you watch TV?" She shook her head as he sighed.
"We're going as Peter and Claire from Heroes. Trust me, the guys at work will be impressed. You'll make a great Claire."
Sarah looked skeptical as she went into her bathroom to get changed. "So, um, what's this girl like?" Sarah asked, more to make conversation than anything else.
"She has this amazing power," Chuck said from outside the bathroom door through a mouthful of M&Ms. "She can heal herself no matter what happens so she can't die."
Sarah adjusted the red skirt on her hips.
"And what about your character?" She flipped her hair.
"Well, his job is to save the cheerleader in order to save the world. It's a complicated process."
Sarah opened the door to see Chuck standing across the hall with his hands in his pockets. He looked like a kid on Christmas morning when he saw her in costume.
"But if she can never die, why does she need saving?"
Sarah looked herself over in the mirror, putting her phone and lipstick in her purse before putting on a pair of shoes.
"Sarah," Chuck said as he leaned against the door frame, "just because she's invincible doesn't mean she won't need saving."
Sarah's eyes met his and they shared a knowing smile. In her opinion, truer words had not been spoken.