Why I Don't Go To Haunted Houses

When I was young, we used to have my mom's family reunion on Halloween.  That meant that the kids were often dressed in costumes and each year a group of cousins would escape the family reunion to go to the Haunted House.  Like most people, they liked being scared on Halloween.  I am not like most people.

I'm very easily frightened.  There are two reasons for this.  One is because of a neurological disorder that I have and the other is because I'm a big ol' scaredy cat.

The neurological disorder causes me to have "a heightened startle response".  I'll explain it to you in very simple terms.  Most people, when startled by someone walking up behind them or toast in the toaster popping up, will jump slightly and respond according to the severity of the situation that has startled them.  Again...I am not like most people.  When put in the same situations I have to then very carefully peel myself off the ceiling.  This has caused a lot of laughter through the years and has led me to believe that my death by a massive coronary episode will very likely be caused by toast.  

For this reason I avoid scary movies and terrible things like Jack-in-the-boxes.  

But I wanted to be cool and go with the cousins to the Haunted House one year.  Everyone went to them and I was always going to be lame if I didn't learn to control myself and love being scared.  So one year I decided to tag along.

I'm still considering that to be one of the biggest mistakes I've ever made in life.  

The trip was great, right up until we got to the parking lot and got on the hayride that would take us up to the Haunted House.  As soon as we pulled out people would pop out from behind trees with chainsaws all along the path.  I was terrified and trying very hard to hold it together, but I was beginning to have a sneaking suspicion that I should have stayed at the family reunion and gorged myself on sweets.

When we arrived at the Haunted House, things began to get worse.  Now there were people with chainsaws running around while we waited in line, and on top of that there people wearing masks and wandering around to entertain people who were waiting.

I have a phobia of masks.  

I don't know why it didn't occur to me that my startle response...which at this point was already making me feel like I might have a heart attack...and my phobia of masks...would make this adventure a bad idea.  I don't always think things through.

Still, I kept telling myself in my head that I could beat this thing.  I could make it through somehow.  I could close my eyes and plug my ears and survive the Haunted House with all my cousins.  I selected two of my older cousins who I thought could protect me and changed my place in line so that I could be between them.  

That was my second bad decision of the night.  Apparently, the cousin who was originally in my place is impossible to frighten and all of her friends worked at the Haunted House.  They had apparently counted to see where she was in line and had determined that somehow they were going to scare her tonight if it killed them.  Unfortunately, I was not her, but I was in her place...and scaring me would  not be difficult.

Most of the rest of the story is a little blurry.  I believe that was just because my brain  has tried to hide the trauma.  I'll tell you what I remember.

When we went into the house, I was first frightened by a person in a Barbie mask who was just standing there.  That's it.  I was terrified.  We progressed through the house and I tried very hard to keep my eyes closed and clutch the back of my cousin.  The second fit of terror came from someone wearing a skeleton mask who screamed in my face.  I was on the verge of losing it.  The third thing I remember, and what pushed me over the edge, was someone dropping from above me and grabbing my shoulders.

It was then that I could no longer breathe correctly.  It was also then that things became extremely blurry in  my mind.  

Somehow someone in the performance of the Haunted House became aware that I was not just like everyone else and enjoying my fright.  She crawled out of a casket and grabbed me.  Just imagine for a minute what this did to me.  I could hear her talking to me, but it had begun to sound like I was underwater and things weren't coming in too clear.  She told me not to be afraid, that she was going to get me out of there.  She buried my face in her body and the next thing I knew we were running through the house and she was screaming and hitting the tops of boxes and casket thingies.  "Don't Come Out!  Stop!  Get Back NOW!"  

I remember fresh air and lying on the ground.  I remember a lot of people around me and oxygen.  I also remember a lot of yelling of "You have to breathe!"  

Here's the real kicker.  The Haunted House was run by the Rescue Squad.  Yep.  The Rescue Squad.  Apparently they thought it might damage their reputation if I died lying there on the ground because of Barbie, a skeleton, and Batman.  

I do not know how long it took for me to begin to breathe normally.  I have no idea how I got back to the parking lot.  I don't even know if I went back to the family reunion or if I went straight home.  

I do know that I believe now that it's entirely possible to actually be scared to death.  I also know that I am not a Haunted House kind of person.  I'm a sit at home and watch heartwarming movies while drinking hot chocolate and thinking about unicorns and butterflies kind of person.  

We never spoke of the incident again, and my first Haunted House was also my last.  I have been asked many times to go, but my response to those people is always the same.