Halloween Hate...
fiction
She hated Halloween.
Hated it.
Yes, she knew hate was a strong word.
But she hated it.
She hated all of the costumes.
She hated all of the decorations.
She hated the trick or treaters.
She hated the stupid trunk or treat things churches did.
She hated the this is not a Halloween party; it’s a Harvest Festival party.
She hated it all.
It used to be a night. Maybe two if Halloween fell in the middle of the week and someone threw a party on the Saturday before or after. But it was one or two nights she had to deal with it all.
But now?
Now Halloween started on October 1 and didn’t end until the first weekend of November.
People rolled Dia de Muertes into Halloween as if it were one big party weekend.
She hated that too.
She hated the carved pumpkins on every doorstep.
She hated the people who stole the pumpkins and smashed them in the streets.
She hated the sexy fill in the not at all appropriate to sexiness costumes.
She hated the no effort at all put into it costumes.
She hated the obviously too much effort put into it costumes.
She hated Halloween.
Hated it.
She hated the scary movies that came out each October.
She hated the ones that came out in the summer even more, shouldn’t they come out in October?
She hated scary books.
She hated cheesy haunted houses filled with bad special effects.
She hated amusement parks selling expensive tickets to stupid Scare-o-ween events.
She hated Halloween.
She had expected it to be so much more fun than it was, but people always ruined everything. Even being dead. Dead on Halloween was supposed to be so much more fun.
But she hated it.
She hated Halloween.
And being dead.
But especially being dead on Halloween.