Hello everyone! This is a fic dedicated to my new epic friend Sam (BackgroundRobot- 11), who is a fan of Trick 'r Treat, much like myself. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 1: All Hallow's Morning

"Right, class. Today, a certain term paper was due. Anybody remember what it was?" Ms. Bollocks, a tall teacher with bleach-blonde hair asked, a brow arched. A girl in the front row raised her hand, a small smirk on her perfect pink lips.

"Yes, Macy?"

"We were supposed to write a report on decomposition." Macy replied, flipping some silvery-blonde hair over her shoulder. Most of the class looked at ease, but a couple of teens looked troubled. It was clear that they had forgotten completely about the assignment. It was understandable; it was Halloween morning, after all. The local school didn't allow students to change into costumes until after lunch, but many people had been so excited, they'd forgotten all about the assignment.

Besides, who looks forward to writing three pages on decomposition and the stages of rotting?

"Exactly. Kids, please pass your homework to the person in front of you. People in the front-" She held her hands out like an eagle reaching for a rodent, "If you please."

Silence ruled the classroom, cracked only by the sounds of paper against skin. No one dared disobey Ms. Bollocks; she was known for keeping kids in detention until 9 p.m. As her teal eyes searched for the students' names on the front pages, she frowned. Everyone held their breath.

Not a good sign.

"Some people are missing papers." She said in a soft voice that boomed through the room. The woman placed the assignments on her desk before consulting a clipboard with everyone's names on it.

"Let's see...we are missing the homework of..." She looked up, her eyes flashing dangerously, "Cornelia Daniels?"

"Um..." A short, stocky girl with a mop of curly black hair shrank in her seat, "See ma'am, it went like this. My brother forgot to feed my dog Spike and-"

"F."

The class gaped at the teacher's bluntness. Cornelia's eyes threatened to pop out of their sockets, "F?"

"F." Ms. Bollocks repeated, "Get it in your skulls: vacations are over, people! Way over!"

Cornelia groaned and slammed her head against her desk. The person sitting next to her patted her shoulder sympathetically while the teacher continued, "Next...Simon Boggs?"

A freckle-faced boy sighed, "Just flunk me already."

"Very well. F."

Simon grimaced and studied his pencil-case while several kids snickered.

"And finally..." Ms. Bollocks sighed, dropping the clipboard, "Regan Bates."

The door swung open, "Present!" Despite the heavy atmosphere that had hovered in the air seconds earlier, the teenagers broke into a chorus of laughter. Regan grinned (which clashed somewhat with her black-rimmed eyes, Maleficent T-shirt, combat boots, and shredded black skirt) and strolled inside, "Happy Halloween, everyone!"

"Regan!" Ms. Bollocks snapped, "Class started eight minutes ago."

"Sorry." Regan held up her green-manicured hands in surrender, "My dad's car crashed. Again."

"Well," Ms. Bollocks straightened so much, it looked like a ruler had been taped to her spine, "That car is always breaking down. But that is still no excuse to arrive late." She sighed, "I'm going to have to give you a note. Do you have your term paper?"

"Which?" Regan frowned, then brightened, "Oh! The one about rotting? Sure, right here." She dumped her coffin-shaped handbag right on top of Macy's textbook, making the girl lean backwards in disgust. Several kids chuckled silently as the punk girl dumped a Blackberry, mascara, a half-eaten Pop Tart, and a troll doll on Macy's desk. The blonde girl's pale face was steadily going redder, but Regan took no notice. She smiled and pulled out a perfect, flawless, five-page report. She handed it to Ms. Bollocks, "Here you go."

"Thank you." The teacher took it, staring at the teenager. In all honesty, she'd expected Regan to forget all about it. Of all the high-schoolers, she and her friend Rhonda Wiggins loved Halloween the most. Every day of October, they always made it painfully clear that All Hallow's Eve was arriving. They hardly seemed to pay attention half the time in class, and more than once, they'd missed school to carve pumpkins or design their costumes.

Regan beamed and collected her things. Ms. Bollocks handed her a note, "This is your last warning, Bates. If you're tardy one more time, I'll have to call your father in."

"If he's not too drunk to attend." Macy whispered to Sara. The two girls giggled, as did a couple of other kids. Regan's cheeks flushed, and the note in her hand crumpled, "Alright." She stiffly walked to her desk, dumping her handbag in the corner. Rhonda glanced at her through a curtain of brown hair, "You okay?"

"Sure." Regan nodded, giving her friend a weak smile.

The morning dragged on. Regan tried not to let Macy's words bother her, but she couldn't help it. True, her father was an alcoholic, but he wasn't violent or aggressive. He was just drowsy and sensitive. Sure, she had to do all the housework and make sure he didn't go too far, but he had a good reason. Regan's mother had fallen for another man; one who owned three-quarters of Indianapolis.

Regan shoved these thoughts as far away as she could from her mind as the bell rang, announcing lunch. She sighed in relief and ran a hand through her short, dark brown hair. Smiling at Rhonda to assure her that she was alright, she linked her arm with her friend's and led her to the noisy lunchroom.

Once there, the two girls collected their corndogs, apples, and milk cartons. They sat at their table: the one near the doorway, where no one ever sat. As they ate, they discussed their costumes, of course. "How's your witch costume coming along?" Regan asked, slurping from her carton. Rhonda looked at her with speckled jade eyes and smiled shyly, "Done."

Regan smiled, "Good. Mine's almost done." She rolled her cloudy-gray eyes, "Who'd think a priest costume would be so hard?"

Rhonda shrugged and sipped some milk. Regan gently bumped her shoulder against her friend's before reaching for her corndog. As she prepared to take a bite, though, she caught sight of Macy and her horde of followers, both male and female. She looked perfect: slim, blonde, and beautiful. Regan was the opposite: robust, olive-skinned, and plain. Remembering Macy's words made anger bubble in the punk's chest.

"Wait here." She instructed Rhonda. Then, she took her carton and tossed the straw aside. She marched towards Macy, who immediately smirked at her unexpected guest.

"Hey, Bates." Macy held up an empty soda can, "Want to fill this with brandy and take it home to Dad?" Schrader, one of the nicer boys in school, gave her a look, "Macy, come on. That's enough."

"No, no. No problem, Schrader. Hey, Macy?" She splashed her unfinished milk in the girl's face, "Got milk?"

Macy breathed deeply.

Regan crushed the empty carton with her hands and tossed it away, "That's for my father." She added, "And quit calling Rhonda an idiot savant."

Without waiting for an answer, she walked back to her table.