The post below is in response to Prompt # 21 "Indescribable Horror"
Outside my window the world I was familiar with had transformed itself into a world of frightful creatures. Goons and goblins mingled among other unrecognizable monstrous faces. Across the street the lawn, that was the envy of most in the neighborhood, transformed overnight into a replica of a cemetery. Tomb stones and scary gargoyles shared space with howling ghostlike apparitions. In the house that we lived in as tenants, pumpkins, with carved menacing faces, lined the walkway, causing my knee to feel like jelly as I walked to the doorway.
My mom, a highly superstitious woman, would light candles to the statues of saints she displayed on a rectangular table set in a corner of the living room. This was her alter. It was the place she would often go to pray to cast out the fears that plagued her. Even though it always had fresh flowers and candles burning, I was afraid of it.
“Halloween is the day of the dead. Those people out there do not know what they are tampering with”, she would say in a voice that would make me shiver.
Needless to say, I dreaded that day for years. At night, shadows on the walls made from ordinary things in my room became otherworldly objects that in my young imagination were out to capture me. I slept with the covers over my head even if beads of sweat caused my nightshirt to cling to me as a second layer of skin. Fear has a way of making logic a forgotten friend.
When I was ten years old my Aunt Carmen convinced my mom to let me spent the weekend with her. I loved my aunt Carmen. To me, she was the coolest lady I knew. She would let me do things that mom would not allow. Nothing serious, just things like allowing me to wear jeans, or jewelry in the house. These things, and many others, were off limit in mom’s view.
Aunt Carmen had purchased a costume for me to wear for Halloween which was just two days away. It was a costume of Betty Boo. I must admit that even though the thought of venturing out on Halloween made my heart pound a little faster than usual, I was excited. When Halloween arrived she took me trick–or-treating. I was really scared to venture off, but my fears quickly evaporated. That night, as we went door to door, I collected so much candy in the plastic pumpkin she had given me that I could have probably eaten my fill and still have enough for another week. To my surprise, I had a great time. The spooky things I used to fear outside my window were not that scary after all.
I learned a lesson that day: We can’t allow fear to stop us from experiencing life. Thank you Aunt Carmen.
