This was his favorite night of the year, but not for the same reasons most kids had for enjoying it.
Going door to door carrying huge bags that would soon be full of candy, seeing all the wonderful decorations in most houses and gardens, that was really fun. But what he really enjoyed were the costumes.
All around him, children and adults alike traded their everyday persona to become ghosts, goblins, witches, vampires, monsters and a myriad other creatures of night and legend. That was what he really loved about this night.
Being different is never easy, especially after moving to a strange land so far away from everything you knew. But tonight everyone was different, he blended right in.
Tonight his pale face and funny accent, even his weird teeth, became just another costume. This was the night he could run around and play with other children without being asked uncomfortable questions or getting funny worried looks from their parents.
Tonight, he was just another kid staying up late and having fun.
“–Hey, Gustav! Old man Jones just chased us off his lawn with a broom and gave us no treats… ready to give him some trick?” Said a tiny werewolf, pressing a roll of toilet paper into his hands.
“–You bet I do!” He answered, and joined the rest of the mini-monster pack as they ran to the nearest alley, looking for a vantage point into the offender’s backyard.
They stopped at the hill from which Mr. Jones’ prized roses and favorite avocado tree were perfect targets. A look that was half innocent guilt and half delight at the thought of a transgression they would never dare any other night danced in their faces.
Yes, tonight he was just like them, but they were also just like him.
When you have the body of a ten-year old, even if you’ve been around for nearly two hundred, all you really want is to enjoy a little mischief and have fun with friends.
“–Ready everyone?” Said the tiny witch with golden curls at his right. Small hands holding white rolls of paper ammunition raised as one as they yelled “–YES!”
He could hear Mr. Jones hastily walking towards the back door, probably wielding a broom. There would be a good chase and much laughter.
This was going to be fun.