With Halloween just around the
corner, everything around us screams Boo! I went with HoneyBunch the other day
to Hobby Lobby and then to Lowe’s. There was a whole section of expensive,
scary lawn decorations. I am talking The
Grim Reaper, a horrific witch who lunged at you as you passed in front, and a
zombie who drooled and turned to follow you with its watery eye sockets.
Way to go! Buy that trio and you make up what you spent
on decorations by not having to buy Halloween candy. The neighborhood kids and their parents would
be too frightened to come near your abode.
What scares you besides opening
your water bill every month or the price of beef?
I hate scary movies. I do not like zombies or vampires, Chucky or
the guy from Elm Street. I like realistic
endings. Let me emphasize that again –
endings. I want to know that when you kill something, it stays dead. I realize that commercially successful movies
will engender sequels and prequels, but I hate scary movies that make you
cringe and your heart race for two hours and the “thing” is still alive. No,
thank you.
I hate scary books more. I have a very vivid imagination. Whereas I can mute a movie and it lessens the
fright factor, I cannot mute my imagination.
I have a difficult time with horror or realistic fiction novels where
the suffering and the gore are graphically detailed. Double no thank you.
I hate pranks, scary pranks where
things jump out at you or fall on you and you cannot escape. I do not have
quick instincts so the snake that pops out of the box or the furry thing that
falls on my head or the mucousy thing someone left in the drawer for me to
accidentally touch is NOT COOL. Years
are shaved from the few I have left.
I hate being alone, at
night. I hear noises and see
shadows. Things glow and slither and
scamper into corners. I end up turning on all the lights, double checking all
doors are locked, and sitting with my back to the wall where I can see all
entrances and exits easily.
Probably the thing I hate the
most is the one gift God gave me that makes me unique – my naiveté. I am the trusting chick in the movies who
answers the door or the phone or finds herself walking down the street at night
alone.
I once had a breather who called
me on the phone every time I was alone in the house. It was like the person was watching me. I was
shocked to learn it was a person who I had befriended at work, a loner everyone
else avoided. I was at a disadvantage until I realized the same background
music played when both the breather and the co-worker called. When I confronted
him and told our supervisor at work, I was able to get rid of him.
Another time a bunch of drunks followed
me after I had dinner with some friends on the Riverwalk. I got to my car and
locked the doors right when they reached for the door handles. As I drove off I honked my horn to cause
attention and scare them away. I should have let my friends drive me to my car
when they offered.
I am not a coward but it is good
to know one’s weaknesses. It helps to
make me stronger. I can protect myself
and guard my soul. Knowing this about myself, I would rather spend my money on
candy or Charlie Brown holiday movies than buying ghouls for lawn decorations.
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