I sit and play with the stones on the dusty pathway. The sun half awake as I anxiously wait for you to climb out of your window. We are 12 and it is Halloween. She had come around the day before to remind me of our pact, the one where we would always trick-or-treat in matching outfits. It was neither the costumes nor the insurmountable amount of sweets that we would get that made me come to love Halloween. It was the fact that I would get to spend a whole day with her. And as you made your way down, I could only remember how cute you looked in your cowgirl outfit.