Seriously, for some reason I love Halloween. Ok, really, I think I like any reason to get in a costume or go crazy decorating. I just love holidays. But anyhow, I think the whole month of October is my favorite in some ways. I love wearing costumes and thinking of things to dress up as. I love partying with my friends and being the only “old people” to go trick or treating in a neighborhood.
Most of all, I LOVE the haunted mansions, houses, farms, barns and cornfields. I love getting the shit scared out of me so badly that I can barely move my feet and feel like I’m going to wet my pants the whole time. Sometimes, I get so scared I end up ripping the skin of the poor bastard who lets me hold on to him.
Every year, I take my boss’s son up the mountain to Moriarty, New Mexico to McCall’s Haunted Farm. This year, I got a group of my friends to go (there was drama, but I don’t wanna talk about that). It was scary as shit. I thought I might die.
We went to the Haunted Corn Maze first. The line was pretty tedious, but I was with friends, so it could definitely be worse. As soon as we stepped foot into the maze, I knew I was an idiot for going. I had been jumpy the whole time we were in line. My friends kept randomly scaring me as we waited and I just knew that my heart was going to stop and I was going to be murdered inside the maze. I gripped onto David’s hand so hard I’m pretty sure he had reason to think that his hand was broken. I couldn’t let go and he would hold me back when things scared me more and drag me when I attempted to stop. I screamed bloody murder at almost every turn. I knew something was going to jump out at me. I kept screaming, “Don’t look at them! They won’t know you’re scared if you look at them.” Apparently that isn’t true. As always, I came out of the maze saying, “Every year! I do this to myself every year! Why?! WHY!?”
There’s this guy there every year. He’s dressed up in what I assume is a hockey jersey (I only say I assume because I never get a great look at him because I get too scared). He carries around a creepy noise maker thingie that makes sparks and really is designed to scare me so badly that I seriously think I’m going to get killed before I leave the Farm.
This year was the first year the creepster learned my name. I was standing in line, kind of in a corner, next to David. I leaned past and behind him to say something to my friend Laura when David reached behind him to “hug” me. When I looked up, Zach was talking to the creepy guy and all I heard him say was, “…Kekky…”
Immediately, I screamed and clutched onto David. I was so scared. I felt my face get hot and I was pretty sure I was tearing up some. The creepy guy started growling my name, “Kekky… Come here Kekky… Why are you scared?” I couldn’t stop screaming and every time I looked around one side of David, the creepy guy would follow with his taunting. It was like playing scare-the-shit-outta-ya-peek-a-boo for adults.
I have no idea why the guy finally quit freaking me out, but I do know that my heart felt like it was going to pound out of my chest. I could feel it through my arms and I could see my chest spasm with each beat. I don’t think I’ve ever been more frightened in my life.
Every year. I don’t know why I do it.
No comments:
Post a Comment