Halloween was a big no-no in my house growing up. I was told that it was a day to celebrate the devil and that babies and cats were sacrificed to Satan on that day so we couldn't go trick or treating lest we give the devil his Holiday. I have never went trick or treating save on time when I was 13 and went with my aunt to help with my cousins(who got to celebrate).
I remember the school parties and how everyone was dressed up in the cute costumes and how my mother insisted that I be removed from the classroom so that I don't get evil stink on me. There was one teacher that I could tell felt sorry for me and she snuck me a popcorn ball when I was in second grade. That was the best treat I have had to this day.
As I got older I would get invited to parties and have to make up some lame excuse as to why I would not be attending. Everyone know the reason but I liked to pretend and my buddies let me.
At 14 years old they had turned the old prison in our town into a MASSIVE haunted house. It was 4 stories of spook. Of course all my friends were going and kept raving about how great it was going to be. Well, our church (that was pastored by my grandfather) sat right across the street from the horror goldmine. We hatched a brilliant plan for me to sneak away from the church activities and run through to haunted house, then return before anyone ever missed.
We spend weeks planning and I knew it had to be just the right moment. I waited all night. My best friend came to the church with me that night and was planning to help me escape.
Darkness had just fell and everyone was ushered into the church to say a prayer for all the lost souls over at the spook house and I sat on the back row calculating exactly how long it would take to get there and back. I figured 30 minutes. But wait, what if the line was long. Better make that 45 minutes.
My bff was anxious. "Come on". "Lets just go now you wont get caught I swear".
I wanted to listen to her but she said that exact same thing when we thought it would be funny smoke cigarettes in the little storage room at the high school. And the time we left school and walked to the Piggly Wiggly and my grandmother just happened to be doing her shopping. There were many, many times that I had heard those words.
I got up and went outside. I could see my destination. It was right across the street. Just a brief sprint and I would be there. I knew she wanted to go and our whole teenage hoodlum posse was waiting on me. I knew this was it. Now or Never.
I couldn't do it. Fear. Shame that maybe it was wrong. More fear. Embarrassment. Anger.
I finally got to go to my first spook spectacular at 25.
My son will NEVER know what it feels like to miss out on being a kid.