I look with pride in the mirror at my
creation. Wearing a long, flowing black
dress with red bloodlike paint splattered on it,
I smile at my ghoulish make-up that sets
it off. I am now all set to depart
to my assignment, much to Mom’s chagrin –
In a makeshift building, I climb up and
down rafters, striking fear into those who
dare to enter. By jumping either in
front or in back of a patron, I cause
fear. My element of surprise makes me
one of the best spooks of the group. Although,
I may take it easy on the little
kids, I enjoy the challenge to make the
big jocks scream or run from me to the next
section. This is especially if I
hear the jocks brag how nothing will scare them.
Ha, ha, ha – I am hailed as the best spook
who draws the crowd. Night after night I play
the part. I get daring, enjoying my
role until – Oh no! My foot slips and I
find myself falling, falling and then BAM!
The cushions I fall on do not break my
fall very well. I’m shaking and in pain.
I feel someone quickly help me up to
get away so the action can resume.
I suppose this ends my stint as the best
spook the Boy Scouts had in their Haunted House.