I thought we were in the clear. I was about to close the door when he came with the dreaded question “What time will you be home?”“When we finis...,” didn’t cut it with him. After a little negotiation we decided on ten o’clock. When I thought it was ok the old man hollers out the door “Forget the ten o’clock.” Before I could protest he mumbled, “Eleven will be ok if you’re inside at someone’s house.”Our bags were chock-full of candy when we split from the rest of group heading down towards. Maybe they would be able to help. It was a long shot, but I had no where else to go.I stopped for the night in an abandoned barn, hiding as best I could in some old boxes. Despite the cold, and uncomfortable floor, I passed out almost immediately. Nightmares of mobs with pitch forks led by my father wielding a shotgun, haunted me during the night. I awoke stiff and cold, my missing hand throbbing. I decided to check the wound.After a painful few minutes easing my make shift bandage off, I found. More

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