The Haunted House of Personality

Halloween is one of my favourite times of year. I get to put out a ridiculous amount of lawn decorations without judgment, costumes range from adorable to terrifying to completely ridiculous, and haunted houses promise thrills that are sometimes fun, sometimes frightening, and sometimes just a little obscure. The scariest things in life aren’t always what jumps out at you, it’s the things that terrify you to your core and keep you up at night. Imagine haunted house built around your personality! A place where those exact fears, frustrations, and confusions are the main attraction. Some parts are quietly unsettling, and some are so relatable that you’ll laugh, cry, or nod knowingly as you recognize yourself in the chaos, or wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat.

Authentic Boo! – Your friends invite you to a haunted house over group text, but insist that you all travel separately to get there. You arrive, and you’re the only one there. You fire a message to the group text, and no one responds, you realize that you’ve been ghosted. You decide to go in anyway, and walk through the classic hallway where every painting’s eyes follow you, but as you pass, they quietly whisper unsolicited life advice. When you reach the end of the hallway, you come across two unimaginative looking ghosts having a petty argument about the true meaning of Halloween. You try to help, but they both call you “emotional” and start arguing about something else. As you walk through, you can’t help but notice the lack of creativity and thought that has gone into the haunted house, and can’t help but feel that the vibe is just off. You open the next door, walk through, and it shuts behind you. You suddenly realize you’re back in the parking lot; you’ve reached the end without explanation.

Inquiring Scream – You walk up to a haunted house, and the first thing you see is a very authentic looking historic plaque. As you read through it, you are horrified by the number of historical inaccuracies and spelling mistakes. You don’t let that spoil your experience, but the fact that it doesn’t explain WHY the house is haunted keeps eating at you. You go inside and see that the house is divided into themes that have no logical relation to each other. Regardless, you move on, and enter a room full of tables covered with half-written notes that don’t cite their sources! You go to the next room called “Haunted Debate Room.” It’s full of ghosts you’re encouraged to interact with, but every question you ask is answered with “That’s just how it is.” You’re ready to leave and walk up to the exit, but are stopped by the Ghost of Christmas Past who tells you that you need to pass a knowledge test before you can go. The test is one question, and asks you to write a poem about your innermost feelings and emotions about Halloween.

Organized Ghoul – Your friends told you weeks ago that they were arranging a trip to a haunted house, but gave you no details. You get a text telling you to meet them “later tonight” at the haunted house “just outside of town.” You frantically look up an address, and when it opens. You arrive early and wait for your friends. They all arrive late, but undeterred, you walk into the house with no plan on what to do if you get separated, or how you’re going to navigate the haunted house. In the entryway you notice the fire safety plan hanging on the wall, but it’s ten years out of date, and it’s not even laminated! You walk into a hallway full of grandfather clocks, all tick-tocking out of sync. The time on EVERY clock is just slightly different, and none of them is correct. You reach the end of the hall, and are handed a piece of paper by someone dressed in a very non-traditional Halloween costume, and are told to follow the checklist to escape the haunted house. You glance down at the paper, but see it is missing step three, and eventually directs you to exit through the entrance.

Reanimated Orange – You’re in the middle of painting your kitchen, but hear about a pop-up haunted house that’s a short drive from your house. You drop everything, and hop in your car. You arrive and go running up to the door, and are stopped by someone wearing a safety vest who insists they go over the “rules and regulations for fun” with you, and has you review and sign a twenty-page insurance document before you can enter. After what seems like an eternity, you get inside and are met with the first of many “warning, jump scare ahead” signs. You do your best to ignore it and run down the hallway looking for something terrifying, gory, or edgy, but are met by, yet another person in a safety vest who stops you and points a “no running in the hall” sign. You find the exit and walk through, but you’re not outside; you’re in a beige room, and the door has disappeared. Someone hands you a massive textbook, and says “welcome to a discussion on theoretical models for optimal candy distribution.”

By the time you leave your haunted house, you’ve seen it all; the petty arguments, the confusing instructions, the moments that make you laugh, cringe, or quietly question your life choices. Some parts feel absurd, some unsettling, and some are so familiar it’s almost comforting. Halloween is full of tricks and scares, but in this house, the real fun (or fright) comes from recognizing yourself in the middle of it all, and realizing that, somehow, it’s exactly what you expected.