Halloween has always been a fun but frightful time for me. I absolutely love the costumes and the sugar-filled candy of the festive holiday. However, looking back at all of my memories of Halloween, I seem to have always been terrified at least once or twice throughout the night. To some, that may be because of a haunted house or scary movie. To me, it was/is because of two people: my older brothers.
Thinking back on past Halloweens, I remember one in particular that scarred me the most. I was six years old, and my brothers were sixteen and nineteen. That year, I was a ninja for Halloween. I remember going trick-or-treating with my momma and two of my friends. We had an absolute blast. I remember thinking that it had been my favorite Halloween because my brothers, and the houses that had teenagers jumping out at you as you approach the door, hadn’t scared me, yet.
My brothers, Tray and Travis, were really into the movie It that year. My momma made me stay away every time they watched it because she knew it would have me shaking in my shoes and give me nightmares. My brothers felt differently on the subject. From past Halloweens, I remembered my brothers jumping out of the bushes or putting on scary masks and peeking around corners to freak me out. This one, though, had been different. They hadn’t tried to scare me or get me into trouble. Naive me, I thought they had grown up and would finally consider me a friend, not a sister to mess with.
It was around 9:30. I had changed out of my ninja costume and looked through every piece of candy. Of course my brothers stole a couple of my favorite candies; it had become a tradition that they enjoyed. Right when I had decided to stop munching on my candy, my brothers invited me to come watch TV with them. I thought it was rare, but wasn’t about to say no.
We went upstairs and Tray turned the lights off. I was a little nervous because of my past experiences, but also excited because I felt included. My brothers sat on either side of me, sandwiching me tight in the middle. When Travis pushed the play button, I knew I wanted to leave and I probably wasn’t going to be able to. It was the movie It. My brothers threatened various things to keep me from screaming for my momma or daddy.
I was forced to watch about 45 minutes of the movie before my momma came upstairs and saw what my brothers were doing to me. They were scolded and I was told to go get ready for bed. I went to change into my PJs, brush my teeth, etc. when I decided to go downstairs to talk to my momma and thank her for the great Halloween.
After giving my goodnights and “I love you” to my parents, I wandered, back upstairs ready for bed. The lights were still out in the game room so I thought my brothers were still watching the horrifying movie.
I stepped into my room to turn off my light and stopped mid-action thinking about the terrifying clowns I had just seen in the movie. What if they were in my room? Nah, I thought to myself. So I turned off my light (night light still on though). As I crept towards my bed, I felt something grab me from underneath the bed. It was a hand with a big white glove on it. Along with the grab was a screeching laugh… a clown laugh!
I tried to pull myself loose from the clown’s grip, screaming all the while. After about thirty seconds of trying to squeeze loose, I was finally able to wiggle my way out of the evil clown’s grip. I immediately ran into my closet, slamming the door and locking it. I tried to stay quiet, terrified the evil clown might find me. I pushed to the back of the, shoving my shoes and toys in front of me. I wanted the evil clown to trip trying to get me; maybe that would give me some time to scream.
When I finally reached the back of the closet, I noticed I wasn’t leaning against the wall. I was leaning against something that was breathing. I tried to turn around, but the person grabbed my shoulders and started screeching the same screech I’d heard before… another clown!
I fell to my knees. The other clown had gotten into the closet and was making his way closer to me, while the one holding me squeezed my shoulders and pushed his floppy nose in my face. I was terrified to death. I screamed for my parents, but figured they were already in bed and wouldn’t hear me. This was the end, I thought. I was going to die just like the innocent people in the movie died.
After what seemed like hours of being pushed and squeezed by the two evil clowns, all the while listening to their evil laughs, I heard the closet door open. Could that be yet another clown? No, it was my saving grace: my daddy! He ran in, pushed the two clowns off of me, and pulled me out of the closet.
He rushed me to the bed asking if I was okay and drying the tears from my eyes. My momma finally came in, fuming. I tried to warn her not to step by my bed or go into my closet, but it was too late. She took two steps into the closet – and had the two clowns by their ears. I didn’t understand.
The clowns were no longer laughing their screeching laughs, but human teenage boys laughs. My dad forcefully took off their wigs and noses to show me what he had understood so quickly: the two worrisome clowns were my brothers! They had set me up for yet another Halloween prank. And what was even worse was that it worked. I had been on my knees crying and screaming, everything they wanted. I was furious and wanted to kill them.
My brothers eventually apologized for terrorizing me so much. They were also grounded for a month. That’s one reason I love my parents so much: they always stood for justice and penalized my brothers for their actions. I ended up sleeping with my parents for the next week, still scared that clowns would drag me back to my closet or underneath my bed. But I eventually got over it and returned to my room, though I checked my closet and underneath my bed every night before bedtime.
Halloween has always been scary to me, whether it’s the scary movie previews on television, or my brothers trying to terrify me. However, the chilling past experiences haven’t scared me away from enjoying the holiday. I still enjoy dressing up and going to costume parties. And I absolutely love trick-or-treaters who come by asking for candy. Nonetheless, you will probably never find me in a haunted mansion or walking into an abandoned house. It’s just not my style or my way of enjoying a “Happy Halloween” night.