Charlie was jostled as he tried to break free from the gathering. He couldn’t see any signs of his dad.

Everyone was too tall. And too drunk. As Charlie navigated the sea of legs, the grownups shoved and kicked him. They either didn’t see him or were too inebriated to care.

Nobody asked if he was okay.

As the claustrophobia began clawing at his throat, Charlie spotted it – the edge of the mob. The crowd momentarily parted as a group shuffled past, loftily carrying beers. He darted through their legs, escaping into freedom.

Charlie hadn’t slipped away entirely unnoticed.

This is part eight of a larger story for Halloween. All sections are in the form of a 99-word story. Check back tomorrow for part nine!

Previous parts: #1 | #2 | #3 | #4 | #5 | #6 | #7