So, someone tell me why, at 41 years old, I decided to get peer pressured into going through a haunted "cave" last weekend? The wildlife park we visited had a man-made cave along one of the enclosures made up into a PG-13 haunted house. There was a group of younger kids hovering around the entrance, bothered because their mom wouldn't go in with them. I didn't think it would be too bad, so I agreed to go through with Brian.
In fact, I stayed behind him the whole time, prepared for the things that go bump in the night to jump in front of him. Inside the first room, there was a morgue set up with a "corpse" moving on a gurney. I acknowledged that, and checked out the room from the doorway. It seemed the "corpse" was the only bad thing. We entered, and shortly thereafter, a person in a black cloak and a scary mask jumped out from behind the doorway and screamed in my ear. I was not at all prepared, and shrieked loudly. After that, I was done.
I don't even remember what was in room two or three, because I was doing my best to keep my eyes on Brian's back and skedaddle through the place quickly. Unfortunately for my nerves, there were people in black cloaks and masks who screamed behind me in every single room we entered. I was a mess when we finally exited the cave. I had shrieked and freaked out three times in three rooms, within probably less than three minutes, and I wasn't at all impressed.
It's nice to know that my fear of haunted houses is still omnipresent in my psyche. I would say that I can wait another 24 years before going through another haunted house, but the last thing I'll need at 65 is a heart attack dressed up in a cloak and mask.
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