When I was 15, I fought off a troll. It was charging at my legs, determined to drag me back into a dark cave where I would never see my family or friends again… So my legs and arms instinctively swung at its chest.
Perhaps I should have mentioned that this was in a haunted house. And that the ‘troll’ was just a man with a terrifying mask. It was one of those haunted houses that you had to walk through; none of this “sit here in this cart that will bring you past all the scary things and safely to the exit”. So I had been terrified for the last 10 minutes leading up to the troll battling as I was pushed through the endless halls by friends.
(I basically react the way Amy does in a haunted house.)
While I’m not proud of having been young and foolish enough to not know the difference between a ‘troll’ and a mask, I am reassured to know that I have excellent reflexes. Some have the flight response; I decidedly have the fight response. Let this be a warning to any real trolls out there.
Being scared and scaring others seems to be an integral part of Halloween. And I like Halloween, I really do: the free candy, the excuse to dress up and the subway rides full of monsters, goblins and scantily-clad-professionals.
But I don’t get the appeal of haunted houses. Every day life can be scary enough (just wait until you get your midterm grades). Though, true, it can be hilarious to see people react to scary things.
(The Nightmares Fear Factory in Niagara Falls, ON has some priceless reactions to their haunted house.)
My distaste for haunted houses may be problematic as I have agreed to go with friends to the Hart House of Horrors Halloween Party on Oct. 31st. I’m going because I know there will be fun things like a DJ in the Great Hall, a costume contest and horror movies. But I am really, really hoping there are no trolls.