Thursday, October 24, 2013

Why I love Halloween, but hate things that go bump in the night.


     Halloween is such a fun and magical time of the year.

Children are busy deciding who they want to dress up as. The pumpkin patches open for the fun trips to pick out the biggest, and best, and apple cider is flowing as you sing songs on an open hay ride in the cool night air.  
                                 Sounds wonderful, right? 
Now let me tell you why Halloween makes me want to close my door. lock it tight. and hide under my bed until day break.
I hate scary things. Yep, I  said it. Things that lurk in the dark, and go bump in the night turns me into a big baby, hiding under the blankets.

I loved taking the kids out on Halloween, but made sure we were in early. When we would walk up to a house decorated for the evening, with things jumping out from the bushes, I was the one running away, screaming. My children would laugh at me and continue on their search for the most candy bars.

I've tried to figure out why scary things creep me out, but couldn't think of anything in my past that I could blame it on. My children even tried a night of therapy to rid me of my demons, a haunted house. They thought if I went through one, and they could prove to me it was all fake, that I would get over my fear. I thought about it and after looking into their tear filled eyes, from laughing at me, I decided to do it. Confront my fears and make it through Halloween without hiding in my room.

I let the kids pick the haunted house, that was my first mistake. We went to one that was a known haunted house. It was three stories and each room was set up to make the toughest guy scream like a girl.  When we got there the place was surrounded with pumpkins with a huge corn maze off to the side.

The screams in the background sent chills down my spine. I gulped but refused to let my laughing children win, so I walked to the entrance. I was met by Dracula who pointed out their disclaimer that we had to read and sign. Should have been my first sign to run. It went through how if you had any heart problems, or a full list of other medical issues that you should not proceed. I thought, this was my out, I had high blood pressure.  My wonderful children encouraged me to face my fears so I stepped in and started for the first staircase. My heart pounded in my chest as I went through the maze of chain saws, be-headed ghouls, and ax wielding killers jumping from the dark. We made it to the third floor and I was feeling pretty confident. We hit each room and by the end of the hallway I was actually laughing with the rest of the group until we rounded the corner for the final decent to the exit. The hallway light flickered with a spooky orange glow and the stair case was filled with a cool layer of dry ice. I was feeling pretty good and ran down the steps in front of the kids. The exit door was at the bottom and I wanted to be the first one through. I jumped off the last step and a hand grabbed my ankle, pulling me to the ground. I slid under the layer of fog and tried to pull my ankle free but it wouldn't budge. I kicked and grabbed the stair case railing and my ankle ripped free from the grasp of the fake demon and I jumped up. I was ushered outside by a few workers because they were concerned that I was hurt. They thought I fell down the stairs. When I explained that it was there last stunt that pulled me down they all looked stunned. I thought they didn't believe me so I lifted my pant leg and showed them a red welt that wrapped around my ankle and the top of my foot that had fingerprint bruises that marked where a hand was. 
A man pushed through the crowd. He was dressed as the ax wielding killer from the second floor. He knelt beside me and checked out my ankle then explained that there was nothing at the bottom of the stairs. He continued to explain the house, at one time was the home of a man accused of killing his parents. The police chased him and he fell down the stairs. He died at the bottom from his injuries. They have had reports of  others being grabbed at the bottom and they believe it was the ghost of the murdered that was killed as he tried to escape. 
The voices around me faded as his words echoed in my ears. Ghost, killer, murderer and he grabbed my ankle. I jumped up and raced for the truck. I fumbled with my keys, opened my door, jumped in and turned on the light. I was not going out or sitting in the dark. I drove home in silence, with my mind on the throbbing pain that surrounded my ankle. A harsh reminder of my first, and last trip to a haunted house.

I, to this day, cannot read or watch anything scary, and yes my children still find that very funny.  Steven King has nothing to worry about from me. I have a great horror story in my head, but too afraid to write it. Scary things give me nightmares. 
                          So have a very Happy Halloween 
             And stay safe. Their are ghosts out there, I know.  

Thanks for stopping by.
Until next time
Lynda

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