It’s cold and wet outside, the smell of wet leaves and chocolate candy dancing through the light breeze and into my nose. My friend dressed in a clown mask with a devilish smirk, lurking behind my heel. Stumbling out the door, our friend in a white cat onesie. Only visible by the dim porch light. I lead the group, in my bodyguard suit, down the path next to the brick wall. As we make our way to the corner, with buckets in hand, a little orange dinosaur jumps in front of us, screaming “Boo!”.

Being 16 and having little pride, I jump at the sudden actions. My friends fake being scared, only to boost my little sister’s ego. We start to make our way to the first house that's across the street. It’s a sight to see, really. Three highschoolers, all dressed up, following a little orange dinosaur. I try to have some dignity but the idea of ringing the doorbell first is overwhelming. Having to remind my little sister to say “Trick-or-Treat” and “Thank you” does get tiring. Walking to every house in the neighborhood, except for my old science teacher’s house and the occasional house that doesn’t have the porch light on.

It’s now around 8:20 PM, we have gone to every house, we have a pound of candy in our hands, my little sister on my back because her feet got tired, it started to drizzle, and now my friends are complaining about it all. We decided it’s a good idea to head back home and trade our candy. Luckily, when we got home my sister passed out from exhaustion. My friends and I plan to stay up a bit longer to trade and eat candy. The next morning, I am filled with regret of shoving my mouth full of candy. Knowing myself, I will do it again next year. It’s all worth it to see that little dinosaur smile.