I want to take a brief hiatus from the multiple part horror story that I’ve been writing to take about something that means a lot to me. Halloween is coming up and it is my ultimate favorite holiday. I celebrate it essentially all of the autumn season and I celebrate it in many different ways. Whether it involves watching animated Tim Burton movies over and over again or simply decking my apartment out in creepy, homemade decorations, I celebrate All Hallows Eve as much as possible. I was even born in Autumn.
For the past few years, I made my costumes myself. I was Daenerys Targaryen a couple years ago and last year I was Harley Quinn. This year, I was planning on dressing up my husband as Bob Ross and making my own costume as a ‘happy little tree’.
The reason I love Halloween so much is not really the costumes or the candy or the decorations. The main reason is I love it is because of the history behind it. I love the creepy stories that the modern Halloween is based off of and I love the movies and culture it has created now. That is why I started the horror short story a couple of weeks back. I am starting my yearly celebration a tad bit early.
In an effort to make this a little bit more light-hearted, I want to share a few funny stories from childhood Halloweens. The first one I can’t quite remember what age I was; I just remember I wanted to be a spooky ghost. My mom, a diehard Christian, wasn’t too keen on Halloween so while my brother and I could go trick or treating and dress-up, there were a few rules we had to follow. My ghost costume ended up being a sheet with too small eye holes and that was just a tad too long. Around the 12th or so house, as I was racing my older brother down a steep driveway when I stepped on the too long sheet and went tumbling down the rest of the driveway. Not one to cry or anything, I simply sat at the end of the driveway with scraped knees and the sheet so askew that I couldn’t see. My brother was laughing at me and my dad pulled me to my feet, straightened the sheet and made sure to help me pick up every bit of candy that my brother swore had flown several feet in the air.
When I got home, my mom cleaned up the wounds and laughed about with the rest of us.
As time went on, my mom became more accepting of the horror movies I would watch all throughout fall and allowed me to pick out scarier Halloween decorations when she went shopping. She ended up liking the holiday, though she has reverted back to not celebrating it as much now that both of the children are out of the house.
Share this article if you love Halloween too!
