The urge to interrupt him before he had finished was overwhelming. He just kept on talking about how amazing his costume is, about how genius he is for coming up with it. He makes wild gestures with his hands, waving them around and dramatically pointing at himself. This goes on for two minutes straight and I still have no idea what he’s dressed as.
It looks like red punk leather mixed with a tic tac toe board. He has on some red jumpsuit with a black mask covering his entire face. On this atrocious black mask is a giant white circle. His hands are covered by black gloves, his feet covered by big black boots and a black belt sits on his waist.
I tilt my head, staring at him. “You look like the child of a hermit crab and a hazmat suit.”
My friend, Kayla, elbows me in the gut. She laughs nervously. “Ariana was just joking. It’s an awesome costume.”
“I wasn’t joking. I really have no idea what you are.”
The guy’s hands droop a little as if I physically upset him.
Kayla flashed him a stunning smile. “I love it. It’s a great show.”
I look over at Kayla. I didn’t have the energy to ask what she was talking about so instead I walked off, joining the people inside the massive mansion. I adjusted my overalls and stuffed my hands in my pockets. As I walk around searching for a familiar face, I take note of the Halloween decorations. All the classics are here: pumpkins, skeletons, ghosts, fake body parts. Boring. If the people who live here can afford the mansion, they should be able to afford better decorations.
I move from the main room to the hallway, which has all sorts of doors leading to more massive rooms. Who needs so much extra space? The house is set up in a way that you have to pass through these giant rooms to get to other rooms like the kitchen and bathroom. I try looking for another hallway but it seems as if there was only one. I don’t necessarily mind because it feels more like a haunted house than a Halloween party.
Each room has a different theme, seemingly to get more gorey the deeper into the mansion you go. The first room I had entered looked like a mummy’s tomb. The curtains were even that dirty yellow-white color of mummy wraps. The second room I went in was cemetery themed, with little headstones and a rusty gate around the food and drink table. The third room was all about witches, with a real black cat, little knick knacks, and skulls. The room I am currently in is themed zombies. It has fake body parts strewn about and even a fake corpse that reaches out to whoever walks by.
I walk over to the food table and stare at the various human themed foods. My stomach turns at the thought of eating a jello brain.
As I stand there, debating whether to risk trying the jello brain or not, I overhear a group of people whispering nearby. Curiosity gets the better of me and I move closer to eavesdrop. They are talking about the mansion, and I catch snippets of phrases like “haunted” and “strange occurrences”. My interest piqued, I decide to do some investigating and ditch the loud music and drunk kids.
I wander through the rooms, carefully observing everything. The decorations become more and more elaborate as I go deeper into the mansion – from a murder circus to , and I start to feel like I’m in a themed haunted house. Everything seems normal and just like your average high school party — I even walked in on three people getting it on in a room with demonic decorations — so I walk back to the main room to find my friends. But as I pass through a ghost themed room, the doors and open window slam shut.
Everyone in the room gets spooked, some girls screaming dramatically and others jumping out of their skin.
I roll my eyes and walk towards the door that will lead to the next room. A guy dressed as a scarecrow twists the handle and yanks on the door. It doesn’t budge and he’s giggling drunkenly as his friends urge him on.
My patience thin, I hip-check him out of the way and yank on the door but it doesn’t budge for me either.
“Come on, Clown, pull harder! You’re little girl arms can do it!” The scarecrow calls.
His friends burst into laughter behind me.
I turn around and look at them. They dressed as farmers, the outfits the same except for the color of the flannel shirt. “Hey, Purple. Do you want to give it a pull?”
He rolls the sleeves of his shirt up, a grin on his face. “‘F'course.” He slurs.
I step back as he grabs the handle. He pulls and his hands slide right off, making him frown. He tries again with the same result, his friends snickering behind me.
I move away to the back of the room as more and more people come up to try their luck with the door. It reminds me of one of those strength tests at carnivals. Unfortunately there are no prizes in this game.240Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzNxqzE1KRU
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