СÀ¶ÊÓƵ

            I am very much not a fan of scary things. I am one of those people who only needs a glimpse of a horror film’s trailer to conjure up all sorts of ghosts and goblins to haunt my dreams. I am one of those people who needs to play games that are even a little spooky in a bright room in the middle of the day. When my sister gave me a collection of my favourite author’s horror stories for Christmas, I had to give it back to her a day later because I was so terrified.

            I am not a horror fan.

            And that, in my opinion, is why Halloween sucks.

            I have always had a strained relationship with Halloween since I was a kid, though when I was little, there were still some pros that tried to outweigh the cons. I always enjoyed going shopping for a Halloween costume and figuring out what I wanted to be. I loved getting candy too. I especially loved getting to do fun crafts and games all day instead of actually learning something pertinent in school.

            But there were problems with even the fun things about Halloween. I certainly loved my costume, but other kids’ costumes could be scary. Some of the boys in my classes growing up loved movies like Saw and The Blair Witch Project, and if there was a way to slip in something creepy and gorey under my teachers’ noses, they’d go for it. I’d have to avoid eye contact and try to think about how much candy I’d get when I went trick-or-treating.

            But that wasn’t always fun, either. Part of the reason I enjoyed trick-or-treating was because of the possibility of showing off my costume to my neighbours. Unfortunately, growing up in Saskatchewan meant there was usually snow on the ground, and suddenly I had to put a jacket on over my superhero cape, or ski pants underneath my witch robe. And then once I actually got to go out trick-or-treating, I had the various disappointing houses who only gave out boxes of raisins, or worse, candy I didn’t actually like. Perhaps worst of all was when you’d ring a doorbell and peer through the door but no one would actually come to offer treats.

            There was a couple on my trick-or-treating route that seemed to adore the spooky scene of Halloween. They would always extensively decorate their house with flashing lights and monster mannequins. They also gave all the kids who came around tons of candy… so long as they braved their veritably haunted house.

            I’m pretty sure one year, they actually had a coffin there. Don’t ask me how they managed that, but it was there, and you had to walk past it to get to the door and get your prize of candy. I was feeling pretty proud of myself for СÀ¶ÊÓƵ brave enough to survive, and was just about to pat myself on the back when someone else actually grabbed my back. Someone had come out of the coffin to scare hapless children, including myself. That definitely worked.

            I must have yelped so loud I set off the neighbourhood dogs howling, and actually tried to jump into the bushes to make my escape. Once I saw that it was just a normal human in a costume, I tried to laugh it off, even though I knew I’d be crying myself to sleep that night.

            Now that I’m older, Halloween has lost a lot of its charm that kept me going out every year. Call me a baby, but I think this year, I’ll be content to stay at home, huddled under a blanket and waiting for Christmas to roll around.