Chapter 1, Part 1:
No One's Home.
Charlie
You find yourself in an interesting situation... for the first time in your fourteen years of life there is no one in your immediate family to which you can turn to. Mom isn't there to hear your problem and offer her insight and Dad is off on a business trip. You've already tried to dial up both of their cell phones, but there has been no answer from either line on the three times that you have called them both. You start to wonder if everything is really okay with them... Dad usually has her phone on all the time unless she's in a very important meeting and the same is usually true with Mom. You think that maybe if you try both of their numbers one more time that you might get an answer. You stop staring at the blank television and begin walking towards the kitchen where the phone for the house is when suddenly a familiar sound catches your ears. It's a chime... one that you haven't heard in a long time. Again it sounds and this time it registers in your brain: "Doorbell," You say out loud. "But no one ever comes to visit the house... what should I do?"
You stop walking and close your eyes visualizing the list that you made in the event that someone would ever ring the doorbell. Remembering the steps, you walk to the door and look through the rarely used peep-hole. Standing outside your house on the porch waiting patiently is Robert, your friend of five years. He is wearing some ridiculous costume composed of some sheets with holes poked out for his eyes... the only way that you know its him is that he always carries that ridiculous looking stuffed animal with him. Because the person is someone you know, you open the door for him.
"Charlie! Why haven't you gotten dressed yet?" He asks in a rushed manner.
Immediately, you pat your chest to make sure that you did indeed put on clothes this morning and didn't just dream it like you sometimes have done in the past. Sure enough, you feel the familiar tactile fabric with your hand and then breathe out a sigh of relief. Confused, you ask Robert, "What do you mean... dressed? I'm wearing clothes aren't I?"
Robert chuckles with his still high pitched voice and responds while he walks into the house, "No you doofus, your costume!"
You close the door behind him once he's fully in the house. The heated winds of October make their final attempt to rush into the doorway before the rubber weather seals stop them from intruding. "What costume?" You ask, still confused as to what Robert is talking about.
"Don't tell me you forgot man!" He exclaims quite shocked.
You are honestly quite confused. Robert is going on and on about some grand event that you have obviously heard about and just can't remember; however, it has to be something big based on the tone of his voice. Something that you shouldn't ever forget. Suddenly, it clicks in your head.
"Halloween!"
Robert smacks your forehead to emphasize how much of a retard he thinks you are. "I can't believe that you almost forgot Charlie." He spins around in his make-shift ghost costume to further his point. "Every kid in the whole world knows when Halloween is, and do you know WHY?"
You look at him like he's a crazy person, someone not quite connected with the rest of the world. After all, to you he really isn't a part of the rest of the world. Your world is all lavish furniture, custom tailored clothing, and only the most expensive brand of everything imaginable while Robert's is mediocre at best. It's this fact that brought the two of you together and yet helps to keep you both apart.
"Well?" He asks. The look on his face clearly shows impatience with your lack of a quick answer.
"I, uh... I, ahh... I..." You let the last “I” just fade away to show that you don't really know why.
"It's the candy you moron! How can you forget about the candy?" He starts to gesticulate a sign for piling things on top of one another. "Mountains, upon mountains, of chocolate for the taking... for every kid that there is!" Robert then let his hands explode as though his mountains were actually live volcanoes and for a moment your imagination displays to you flowing liquid chocolate shooting forth from his hands.
You, however, are genuinely shocked. "Candy... just given out... on Halloween?" You ask.
Why were you never informed of this? Why has this tradition of costuming around on Halloween never been shared with you? The thought of people spending their hard-earned money on chocolate and treats just to give away to children doesn't make any sense at all in your mind. This time, it's Robert who looks at you as though you are the alien.
"Charlie," Robert begins, "are you trying to tell me that you have never known about Halloween?" He lifts a single inquisitive eyebrow, a talent that you haven't perfected yet.
"Well..." You look down at the floor of your entryway and then into the kitchen before signaling your friend to follow you as you walk through your house. "I mean, we watch movies and all, my Mom and Dad and Me. Usually they're scary movies, like Jaws or Scream." You grip the banister like your Mom and Dad have always told you as you climb up the stairs at a rapid rate. "Then we have Halloween dinner, which is usually a roast turkey with pumpkin pie." You open up the door to your room as your finish up explaining what you know Halloween to be like.
Robert looks at you with a gaping mouth, speechless.
"Is something wrong Rob?"
Robert doesn't say anything. All he does is walk over to the bed, and take off the down blankets and silk sheets.
"Rob, what are you doing?" You inquire.
"Get changed," He tells you. "Wear a t-shirt and shorts, white if you can."
"That doesn't answer my question Rob. What are you doing with my sheets?"
"Making you a costume... now go get changed."
You walk into your closet and shut the door, search for a plain white t-shirt and shorts among the countless numbers of custom sewn polos and slacks. Finally, after what proved to be a quite arduous search, you find your apparel and walk out into your room again. What you see is absolutely terrifying.
Your silk sheets, that you know cost over $2,000 now have holes in them about in the center and all of your school supplies are strewn about the floor. Robert is holding your pair of scissors and wearing a devilish grin.
“Are you MAD?” You nearly scream. Mom and Dad were going to kill you when they found out.
“Charlie, listen to me,” Your friend tells you as he places the hand not holding your scissors on your shoulder, “I’m nine, I know what I’m doing.”
