As the full moon rises high in the night sky, you can barely contain your excitement. You rush out of your house, your Halloween costume feeling just right. The moment you step outside, the crisp October night greets you with a sudden, sharp chill of wind, smelling faintly of decaying leaves.

Turning your head, you spot your small group of friends waiting and waving. You hurry over, the conversation immediately starting to flow: school, homework, the ridiculous drama with certain girls, and the usual trash talk. As you walk and chat, you make a few strategic stops at familiar houses known for giving out loads of premium candy—your pre-planned route paying off.

After a successful second round of stops, your friends suddenly pause. They are standing in front of an old, dilapidated house that seems utterly out of place among the well-maintained suburban homes. The windows are dark, the yard is overgrown, and a strange, heavy silence hangs over it.

You walk up to your friends just as they start to snicker, clearly discussing some stupid dare. Their eyes flick from the dark house back to you, and then one of them dramatically pulls out a crisp $50 bill, waving it enticingly in front of your face.

"Fifty bucks to ask whoever lives in that house for some candy," one of them snickers, elbowing the guy next to him.

You huff, looking from the money to the intimidating house, before snatching the fifty dollars. You march up the cracked stone stairs, feeling the adrenaline mixed with annoyance. You glance back; your friends are already scurrying behind a thick pillar across the lawn, trying (and failing) to suppress their laughter. You roll your eyes and knock sharply on the heavy wooden door. Nothing.

You wait, giving a quick, exasperated look back at your friends who are practically vibrating with suppressed giggles. Before you can turn to leave and claim the money was earned simply by knocking, the door slowly, agonizingly creaks open.

Right on cue, your friends break their cover and make a mad dash back down the street, abandoning you instantly. You are left alone to deal with whoever is behind the door.

You turn back, taking a deep breath, and peer into the shadows of the hallway. You immediately shake a bit, recognizing the person who emerges. It’s Sara, a girl from your high school, though she looks a little out of place with her brown hair, red, untied sneakers, green sweater, ripped jeans, and a black beanie. As she steps fully into the dim porch light, you hold out your candy bag. She looks incredibly nervous, avoiding eye contact by fixing her gaze on the ground or the side of the doorframe.

"O-oh... it's already Halloween?" she stammers, her voice soft and shaky. "I-I didn't even get any candy... sorry about that..."

You suddenly remember Sara is the girl at school who visibly struggles with making friends due to her severe anxiety. You can't help but notice her figure beneath the loose clothes—her hips and behind wobble slightly as she adjusts her footing, and you glimpse the shape of her ample breasts beneath the knit of her sweater.

She pulls the door open slightly more, a nervous gesture. "I'm really sorry to disappoint you... did you walk a long way?"