A Trip Into the Past

I stood by the front door, a bowl of candy in one hand, chocolate in the other. It was Halloween, and the year was 2010.  This year, I had decided to be a Greek goddess. Sadly, it wasn't enough to scare the little kids off; however, it was worth seeing their faces light up whenever I offered them sweets. What I didn't expect, however, was for someone to find their way into my house. I had been handing out candy and chocolate for around two hours whenever the streets started to clear up. My family had gone ahead and went trick or treating with my assurance that I would be fine. I had gone ahead and started putting up the leftover sweets whenever I heard the front door open.
"Hey guys! How did trick or treating go? Get any good stuff?" I called, laughing. When no one responded, I turned around to see an old man in my doorway. A cry escaped my lips, but no one could hear me. I ran to the door, figuring that this must be a misunderstanding.
"Excuse me sir, may you please leave now?" I asked him, plastering a fake smile on my face.
"Do you remember me?" He asked, daring to stare straight into my eyes. My eyebrows furrowed.
"I'm sorry sir, but I don't believe I know you. May you please stand outside the door?" I asked politely, fear starting to build up within me. Instead of listening, he took a step inside.
"What are you doing? I demand you leave is instant!" I yelled, my breathing becoming heavy. I took a step back and ran into a wall.
"I'm not going to leave until you tell me who I am. I'll give you a hint, sweetheart. My names Mr. Pickle," he said. Suddenly, fury raged within me.
"Did my brother set you up to this?" I demanded to know my hands on my hips.
"No, sweetheart," he said, taking a step closer. He may have been an old man, but I was paralyzed by fear. If he took a step closer, forgive me God, I was going to kick him where it hurt. Suddenly, I heard  someone near the door. I looked through the window and saw my aunt. She mouthed are you okay and I shook my head, eyes wide. She ran over to me and told him to leave. He refused, saying he'd only leave if one of is told him who he was. She yelled, "I'll tell you! Just leave her alone!" I was torn between gratitude and fear as I stood paralyzed, watching him corner her.
"At least tell me your name," she lamented.
"Mr. Pickle," he said. Immediately, recognition lit up her face.
"You're the original owner of this pr-property, right?" She asked. A smile filled his face and he said, "Yes, I used to live here, you know. It was a much smaller house though. It's a pity it was torn down." And with that, he turned and left, cane in hand. I had never seen a sight so scary.
"You should have kicked him in the balls, Isabella. You wouldn't have gotten in any trouble," she said. I bit my lower lip and looked down, saying, "But I was afraid that they would, you know, break or fall off or something."
"What?" my step aunt asked, confusion clear on her face.
"You know, his...parts," I muttered, blushing. I was shocked by the sound of a donkey. I looked up to find the source and found that it was my step aunt...laughing? A smile lit up my face, and she cracked up more.
"You are hilarious," she finally managed to say. I looked down, my cheeks catching fire.
"Thank you?" I asked, a laugh finally escaping my lips.
"No problem," she said grinning as she went off to tell everyone what happened. My feet padded against the wooden floor as I grabbed a bag of Almond Joys, finally settling myself into the couch for a long night of stories and too much crappy TV.