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.