It was a dark and stormy night as my best friend and I approached the entrance to the certifiably haunted…world’s scariest…Haunted Halloween Walk at Marine Park. Just kidding. It was a bright, sunny day, that couldn’t have less of a haunted, scary vibe if it tried. Nonetheless, I was practically shaking in my boots. See, I was a child and my best friend had asked me to go. There wasn’t even a teeny tiny microscopic part of me that wanted to. I absolutely 100% did not. But we were like seven and if I said no, she would’ve told everyone I was a baby. So, of course, I went. My best friend was fearless, and while we waited on the long line she told me stories of how Halloween started: People wear costumes because ghosts and demons come to Earth on Halloween, did ya know that? It’s true, there’s a little door or something and it opens on Halloween, so people started wearing costumes to scare all the creatures that were trying to scare them! And if you don’t have a costume they’ll possess you or eat you or kill you or something. Seriously! And I listened, in fear, wondering where that door was and how many creatures came through, and if they ever really left when Halloween was over. By the time we got to the front of the line I was terrified. But I was not a baby and I listened to the man in charge as he told me that if I put my fingers in the shape of a cross then the demons and the ghosts and the murders and whoever else were on that walk weren’t allowed to get me. And I thought Thank God before my best friend quietly reminded me that only babies would make the sign. I took a deep breath, looked her in the eyes, and asked if she was ready to go in. She said yes, of course…
so I took one…
hesitant…
step…
forward…
before she grabbed me and pulled me away and said there was no way in hell we were going on the HAUNTED Halloween Walk. I was stunned. I was smiling. I would not be forced to face whatever creatures lie beyond the threshold. We spent the rest of the day in the park, reverting back to our regular roles of fearless and baby as she told me even more scary stories from the plethora in her head, but I went home content that day because when everyone asked how the Halloween Walk was, I got to triumphantly tell them I didn’t know because she got too scared.
I tell this story because I think one of the traditions of Halloween is to share your own scary stories—your past costumes or experiences, usually more funny than scary as you grow older. As an adult I celebrate Halloween by painting/carving pumpkins, reading horror stories, and watching all my favorite scary movies. As a child though, Halloween was much different. It wasn’t so much an entire season as it seems to have evolved into. As a child, I was absolutely terrified of Halloween.
My brothers were older than me, which meant they watched scary movies and wanted to dress up as Ghostface or Freddy or Jason, when all I wanted was a moment’s reprieve from all the scary decorations outside. We’d go as a family to pick out costumes and while we walked through aisles of masks, I’d hold my hand over my eyes. When we went to Fright Fest, I did the same. When I went into school on the morning of Halloween, I did the same—with my brother holding my free hand to guide me to my classroom. Going trick or treating was less of a fun activity and more of an anxiety inducing one, where I was terrified that the decorations would spring to life and grab me…I’m still afraid of that…
Halloween is almost upon us and it’s fascinating and strange to think that this huge commercial holiday, that basically spans an entire month, has several roots that all involve ceremonies of religious or seasonal things. Halloween gets its name because it is the night before All Saint’s Day (also known as All Hallows Day), which was known as All Hallow’s Eve. It also has roots in the pagan Samhain festival of Ireland which celebrated the harvest and came halfway between the fall equinox and winter solstice. It was believed that during this time, ghosts and demons and various other creatures were able to connect with the human world. This belief was felt in various places around the world, as Mexico too has a celebration at this time: Dia de los Muertos, which actually spans 3 days with its start on Halloween.
Halloween has become a sort of amalgamation of all of these things and more. It is inarguably the best time of year. As soon as October hits it is, what lovers of the season have more recently and affectionately coined, “spooky season.” Spooky season means it’s time to start planning costumes, picking dates for pumpkin and apple picking, getting groups of friends together to go to a haunted house or Fright Fest or a jack o’ lantern festival, and, of course, tuning in to ABC’s 31 Nights of Halloween. It means watching Scream and It and Friday the 13th and Nightmare on Elm Street and Saw and every Tim Burton movie ever. It means scary makeup and fun costumes. It means pumpkin spice and cinnamon and. And now, with only a few days left, it means costumes have been picked (and for some people already worn), pumpkins have been painted and carved, movies have been watched, and pretty soon doorbells will be rung, the magic words will be spoken, and candy will be eaten.
The Junction Journal 