My Last Halloween

After several attempts to woo her, she agreed and at last confirmed that she would be mine but on one condition: I should be able to recognize her on the last day of October. I was given no explanation as to why I was being put through this litmus test. This would be the third consecutive year and I would score a hat-trick if I fail to find her in the madding crowd. Undoubtedly, the deal was lopsided in her favor. This time, my frail heart would not be able to accept the defeat. To be honest, I hate aftermaths...I abhor the idea of being the 'best man' standing next to her potential groom and walking slightly behind him. After an endless wait, the day arrived. I had reached the party a couple of hours earlier. 

The hall was beautifully decorated with lighted pumpkins, paper lanterns, and balloons. Within minutes, multicolor zombie faces, half-skulls, mermaids and scarecrows came trooping in, in ones and twos, hanging around and smiling with their partners. I walked slowly occasionally turning my head in semi-circles, unsure about what each new step would bring. I felt very odd, excited, nervous, and a bit confused as it was difficult for me to recognize her. My piercing gaze made everyone uncomfortable, as I kept searching for her face carefully in the midst of a jostling crowd. Three hours passed in a millisecond. My eyes spotted a ‘witch’ standing near the metal spiral staircase. She was taking a sip of margarita, smiling casually in the group. My heart pounded fast against my ribs and I was dying to win her over. In spite of feeling sick with fear and hope, I reached out and gently tapped on her shoulder. She turned her head with a surprised look on her face. A timer goes off my heart. Was it a checkmate moment?