Column: Why I’ll never enter a haunted house in Halloween

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 It’s that time of year again when people start decorating inside and outside of their houses, getting candy, costumes, watching scary movies, and going to haunted mazes or houses to celebrate Halloween. I’m going to tell you a story of how I was traumatized by haunted houses and will now never step foot into one again. 

It started during my sophomore year in high school when my best friend Anna asked me if I wanted to go to six flags Fright Fest with her sister, Joshlyn, and two other guys, plus her dad would be taking us. Back then, I didn’t know what to expect at six flags during Halloween. Since I watched scary movies, I thought it couldn’t be that scary right? I was already scared of clowns and knew then I wouldn’t be going into a haunted house with them in it, but little did I know what was to come. 

It was a nice fall feeling that Friday night when we went to six flags. We got there around dusk — when there was little daylight so there couldn’t be any scary creatures out to scare you. Well, I was wrong. People had fun scaring me and Anna — we couldn’t walk without them jumping out or walking behind us. 

It was the year when the “Twilight” saga was out, so there were vampires but the ones you see in your nightmares and werewolves that weren’t cute. All in all, it was fun seeing everything decorated for Halloween until the haunted house experience. 

It was my call to hit up a haunted house and the scariest one they had, so I had a feeling I knew what I got myself into I thought. I don’t remember the name of the haunted house, but I know it had something to do with scary movies, which back then I enjoyed. While walking through the house, half of the time I held on to my best friend Anna’s dad’s shirt since there was fog. This house had everything you imagined about the scary movies you watched, and I knew I was going to have nightmares from it. There were strobe lights, which made it scarier and harder to see where you’re going. 

By the end, I was ready to get out of there since the whole time I probably screamed, and the creatures scared me to me to my core. 

While I was going through the haunted house to tell you the truth, I was power walking to the end because I knew it was already traumatizing me and I needed to find the exit fast. When I saw the end to freedom, a clown jumped out with a chainsaw and started to chase us, so I ran for my life because that was my nightmare chasing me. I was about to have a panic attack, and I was afraid I’d fall down. I ran out so fast that even when I was outside I was still running from the clown and didn’t care if people were wondering why I was still running and screaming. 

Now you know why I hate haunted houses. I won’t go to one anymore, and sadly, I can’t really watch scary movies anymore. 

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