Friday, October 26, 2012

My Halloween

Growing up, my religiosity never kept me from celebrating Halloween. It was the time to play dress up, grab a pillow case for trick or treating (you could hit more neighborhoods that way and accumulate more candy), and head to the neighborhoods where they gave out full sized candy bars.

Halloween was sort of like a community Christmas, where everyone could show their creativity and receive a sugar high all for free. For me, most of the time, the costume was something dragged from my mother's closet - almost nothing store bought. But it didn't matter. I loved seeing everyone attempts at creating an alter ego.

It was pretty simple then. Once the street lights came on, children would descend on homes with their outside lights on. In a group, we'd yell trick or treat and wait to be scared and/or given candy. The decoration would range from being very sparse, almost non existent, to over the top haunted houses.

There is one Halloween season I'll never forget. A carnival was in town and located not far from my house.My family decided to go. The sounds of the carnival and the crowd was infectious. Laughter rung in the air. I was wearing plastic princess slippers and the eerie sounds of the Halloween soundtrack blasted around us. We decided to visit the fun house.

We entered and besides the usual darkness and mirrors, there was also the occasional person popping out to scare those wandering through it. Somehow or another, I got separated from my family. Suddenly, there were large male hands wrapped around my waist, trying to pull me back into the darkness where there was no light, nothing. It didn't feel right. It didn't feel like it was part of the fun hose experience.I struggled and screamed, losing one of my highly prized shoes. 

Finally freeing myself, I ran. I ran until the blackness gave way to some street lights and illumination from the carnival's rides and the sight of my mother's welcoming smile.

It didn't matter that I had to walk on sharp gravel to get home. The only thing I could think about was how these manly hands inappropriately touched me and made me lose something I could never regain.

I never told my mother about it; I never told anyone, perplexed by the experience.

I don't like fun houses and now am leery when I am around one always wondering if I enter again will I find not only my plastic slipper, but also my innocence.


About Tina: I am the author of THOU SHALL NOT. I love creating three dimensional characters and am always looking for new people to kill…in my stories.
Check out my author's  blog at and my book is available at Amazon and Barnes and Noble. You can also connect with me on Facebook and on Twitter.


  1. Wow, Tina! I'm so sorry that happened to you! You put into words one of my concerns with hunted houses or nighttime scary romps through cemeteries, etc. I don't like engaging with people I can't see.
    I'm glad you were a little fighter, even way back then. :-)

    1. Thanks Tracey. Writing has caused a lot of suppressed memories to bubble to the surface. I am very happy that I continue to fight. This characteristic was instilled through life's experiences. I don't know how to just give up - and I never do. :)

  2. What an awful experience, Tina! I don't think I could have kept something like that to myself. I grew up at the Jersey Shore (the real one, not the one on MTV), and one of the boardwalk amusements was a "Haunted Mansion." Even knowing it was all an act, I was terrified walking through that thing. I remember shrieking when something touched my foot. I can't imagine what I would have done if someone had grabbed me around the waist, in a real-life situation. I'm so glad you struggled and ran!

  3. The brain is amazing in that it allows one to almost forget experiences like that. The key word there is almost.

    When I was younger, I was a semi-tomboy. I was a girl that played with dolls but also could skip rocks, go fishing and climb trees. Tough enough to go play outside in a blizzard because I wanted to play in the snow. I'm very thankful that I could get away. Sure, it would have been nice to never experience something like that, but at least I got away - almost unharmed. Since then though, I can't go into a fun house. They scare me too much, and I never know if there is something in the darkness that is going to once again attack and this time, I might not be able to escape - a thought I'd rather not have.

  4. Oh, Tina, what a horrible thing to have happened to you. I'm so very sorry, but I'm also so thankful that you knew enough to fight. I'd like to think that knowing you've fought your way free before gives you the strength to fight for what you want now. Keep that lovely smile.

    1. Thanks Denise! I guess that is why I am so optimistic about life and dreams. It's easy to give up when you've never had to fight; so hard to quit when you know what giving up could mean.