Head Trip

My family celebrated Halloween just as much as the next family. My mother spent a lot more time decorating the house when my sister and I were younger but as we got older, the decorations started to disappear more and more each year as did our interest for trick-or-treating. Our focus on the 31 st of October diverted to simple things like watching scary movies and eating the candy we were supposed to be giving out, instead of ringing doorbell after doorbell with our pillow cases wide open, ready to scream ‘trick-or-treat!’

We gave up on the whole dressing up thing. After disguising ourselves as pirates, ghosts, witches, and monsters, my sister and I had enough. Once high school hit, we shared the same feelings towards the concept. I guess we just didn’t really care enough. Even though we stopped participating in the festivities, Halloween and the whole month of October became a month where my sister and I bonded. Our inclination for horror films brought us together in front of the television, fighting for popcorn and of course the remote control.

The whole month of October was dedicated to watching the terrible acting of those starring in movies involving Freddy Kreuger, Mike Myers, and Jason Vorhees. The movies entertained us more than they actually scared us. We laughed more than we buried our faces in fear. No matter how fast the poor victims would run in their attempt of escaping, the killer would always catch up to them striding in a cool, calm, and collected fashion as if they were taking a stroll in a park.

Whether I cared to admit it or not, I enjoyed Halloween time for that sole purpose; getting to spend time with my sister at a time in our lives when it practically became un-cool to spend any time with a sibling whatsoever. For about four years in a row, we developed a routine for the month of October.

We would come home from school, finish our homework as quickly as we could, and then make our way to the family room and stay there until one of us fell asleep. We would manage to squeeze in close to four or five movies a day. Come the end of the month, we could recite every movie word for word, scream as loud as Jamie Lee Curtis, and imitate the voice of Freddy Kreuger.

But once my sister went off to college, watching the movies alone did not share the same appeal that they did watching them with her. And as I did before we established our ritual, I lost interest in the holiday; this time completely.

I was a sophomore in college and unlike my sister; I unfortunately stayed home to pursue my collegiate studies. September flew by and as the leaves began to fall more and more around the neighborhood, Halloween was right around the corner. My opinion of the so called holiday changed quite a bit upon entering my second stint of serious education. I didn’t care more than ever and now without my sister around, I couldn’t stand Halloween at all.

A lot of people in my classes were talking about their plans for Halloween, which bar they were going to, which party they would be attending. I wasn’t doing anything nor did I plan on indulging in any of the promiscuity Halloween brought in the world of college. Anyway, Halloween was on a Sunday this year. I would be too busy consumed in watching the Jets lose to have the time to worry about which bar I was going to or what costume I would be wearing.

Call me the Grinch who stole Halloween if you must. When it came down to it, I really did feel like the Grinch. Everyone around me was already in the Halloween spirit while I simply looked forward to eating turkey on Thanksgiving. I wanted nothing to do with the festivities.

I tried to ignore it the first two weeks of October but after fourteen days of struggling, I gave up. How could I ignore something that has devoured society and everything else around me? Plus, it didn’t really help that my mother decided to somewhat decorate the outside of our house.

“I want the kids to come so you and your father don’t eat all the candy, like you do every year.” She said.

“So stop buying the best kind.” I said back.

In the third week of October, I even tried to force myself to like the holiday. But I had as much success trying to force myself to like the dentist.

On Monday of the third week in October, I tried to watch some new scary movies I hadn’t seen before but couldn’t get passed the opening credits. It wasn’t the same without my sister. On Tuesday, I drove past Party City. On Wednesday, I parked in the parking lot of Party City but immediately backed out of the spot and drove away. On Thursday, I did my mother a favor and bought the candy we would give out. On Friday, I actually went inside Party City but left at the first sound of a kid complaining to his mother.

Like I said, I was the Grinch that stole Halloween.

It was the Monday before Halloween and I was once again forced to listen to everyone talk about their plans for the weekend.

“Oh my God, you are not being a softball player! That’s my costume!”


That’s all I heard. I was trapped listening to Christina complain that she couldn’t find a matching hat for her costume and Theresa complain about how her boyfriend didn’t want to wearing similar costumes. Thankfully I only had one class on Mondays.

As I pulled into my driveway, I stared at the pumpkin and the scarecrow that were situated on my porch. All I wanted to do was grab the pumpkin and smash it up against the scarecrow. But instead of pissing my mother off any more than I had already done for the nineteen years of my life, I didn’t. Instead, I walked right up to the pumpkin and channeled my days of shining on the soccer field.

Before I knew it, I was on the floor. My foot was throbbing and my head was pounding in pain. Did I really just trip over a pumpkin?

I stayed down and basked in my shame for a minute or two. When I finally regained my composure and shoed away the little birdies flying around my head, I got up and walked inside my house.

Later that night, I left the house to go meet up with a friend. Walking down the stairs outside my house and passing the pumpkin, I was forced to do a double take.

Did the pumpkin somehow get bigger? It looks a lot bigger from when I smoothly tripped over it before. Maybe it is just my imagination but come to think of it, that stupid scarecrow looks bigger also. I think I took one too many to the dome piece.

I shook off my confusion and proceeded to meet up with my friend. However, the thought of our two decorations getting bigger did not go away along with the pain in my head.

I only stayed out for about an hour. My headache got worse as the night went on and all I wanted to do was face plant into my bed. Walking up my stairs again, this time a bit more carefully than earlier in the day, I tried to ignore the pumpkin and the scarecrow but as soon as I passed both wonderful decorations I turned around to get confirmation and silence the crazy suspicions floating around in my head.

I’m losing my mind. They don’t look bigger at all. I definitely hit my head a lot harder than I thought. Halloween is so overrated.

I woke up the next day not even remembering having fallen asleep in the first place the night before. My head was still pounding. My forehead was soaking wet while the rest of my body was perspiration free. What the hell was going on?

While walking to my window to look outside as I did every morning, dizziness and nausea kicked in. The sun was shining bright and the trees surrounding my house were pretty much naked.

Is someone calling my name?


But no one responded.

I continued to gaze out the window when I heard it again.

“I’m up, Ma! I’m going to class, don’t worry!”

Why is she screaming my name and then not responding when I answer her?

I noticed that my mother’s car wasn’t even parked in front of the house. No one was home actually. I was now hearing voices? Really? How hard did I hit my head yesterday?

Wait a second. The pumpkin DID get bigger. Do pumpkins grow?

I thought to myself as I examined the pumpkin from my window.

I was flying over the cuckoo’s nest and headed towards complete insanity. And, it was only Tuesday. Great.

So not only is my least favorite holiday in the world approaching, but I am hearing voices, I have a migraine times one hundred, and I am being stalked by a growing pumpkin.

And people ask me why I hate Halloween.

I kept my headphones in my ears until class started. The last thing I needed was more reminders that Halloween was on Sunday and updates about costumes. You would think it didn’t matter at this point with all considering. I was hallucinating at my own house about a pumpkin and imaginary people were talking to me. Why avoid Halloween when I was starring in my own, corny horror film?

The growing pumpkin strikes again.

How about; I’m losing my mind part one.

Since it was college and no one really paid attention in class anyway, I looked up new scary movies on my phone that were being released to theaters. There was one that looked remotely decent about a guy that plays games with his victims and forces them into series of trials in order to survive. This was right up my alley but who would I see it with? My sister wasn’t around and no one else I hung out with cared for movies like this.

I didn’t have too many friends to begin with. I didn’t have many people I could talk to. If I did, I would have broadcasted the news of the growing pumpkin on my Facebook like everyone else would have. But no one would have cared. No one would believe me anyway. Hell, I’m having a tough time believing myself.

Driving home from school, I spoke to my sister on the phone, not once bringing up any of the weird things that have been going on over the past day and a half, even though she probably is the only person that would take me seriously. But before I raised concern and fired a flare, I wanted to make sure I actually was losing my mind. She made me forget about the pumpkin and the voices in my head. Strangely enough, for the majority of our conversation she kept telling me to wake up. I guess that’s what happens when all you do is complain to someone.

It was always good catching up with her since the last time we ever really bonded was in front of the television all those years ago. I remember when…

Who moved the pumpkin? Okay, someone is definitely messing with me because not only is the pumpkin on the bottom step now but it grew even bigger from yesterday and this morning. Someone is literally going out and buying a different pumpkin every time I leave the house.

I was honestly waiting for someone to pop out from behind my house and laugh in my face. But no one did. This time, I didn’t think I was losing my mind. I knew I was losing my mind.

When my mother came home I confronted her right away.

“Who keeps moving the pumpkin?” I questioned.

“What are you talking about?” She questioned back.

“The pumpkin got bigger from yesterday, Ma. It moved.” I exclaimed, realizing how much sillier I sounded saying those words aloud.

“Wake up. Are you feeling alright?” She asked, rubbing a cool, damp towel over my head.

It wasn’t enough that my sister was telling me to wake up. My mother had to follow suit. Did they talk about me earlier in the day and reach a common ground that I needed to wake up. This is why I didn’t tell people anything.

“The pumpkin is the same it’s been since I bought it. Wake up. We’re eating dinner in an hour.”

That’s not really nice telling your son to wake up. My mother’s incessant remark dug up my terrible headache from what I thought was in its permanent grave. When the pain went away in class, I thought that was it.

Instead of moping around the house, I decided to go for a jog. I might not have had a lot of friends and I might not have had anyone to impress really but I still exercised every day. It was therapeutic and for the most part kept my mind from wandering as it had done for the past day and a half.

An hour later, I was a sweaty mess stretching on my front porch. Proving to be helpful once again, I cleared my mind and was ready to go to town on whatever my mother cooked for dinner. If it wasn’t for my mother’s pointless decorations, I would never be reminded of what has haunted me for the past day and a half. But walking up my stairs and into my house, my anxiety came back.

So, not only is the pumpkin even bigger but now that scarecrow has decided to join the party. Did my mother buy these from some infomercial where for only $19.99, you can grow anything you want by sprinkling magic dust over it.

“Are you sure you haven’t been replacing the pumpkin and the scarecrow, Ma?” I asked.

“Why do you keep asking me that? Eat your dinner. Wake up.” She responded.

There she goes again. I’m literally going to keep everything to myself from now on as I’ve done for the majority of my life. So for now, I’m going to stuff my face as much as possible, take about five aspirins, and just go right to sleep.

It’s morning already? Once again, I don’t even remember falling asleep. Five aspirins didn’t cut it. My head is still on the fritz. How am I sweating this much in October? My room is freezing. Alright, time to see what it looks like outside.

I don’t know if I can even define insanity anymore. Should I even say it? No, I’m not going to. From now on, it will be addressed as it-who-must-not-be-named. Oh hell, that takes too long to say.

The pumpkin got bigger!

Are you okay?

Yes I’m okay. Like I said, I don’t know if I can even define insanity anymore. I just answered the voices I’m hearing in my head. Cool. What’s next?

Can you hear me? Are you okay?

Yes I can hear you. I already told you I’m okay. That’s it. I’m admitting myself. Mental hospital, here I come. Make room for another crazy.

Wait a minute. Relax. It’s probably just a part of these headaches I’ve been getting. Is denial a bad sign? Or is that only a part of the twelve step program for junkies and gamblers? Alright fine. I’m losing my mind. But before I take a trip to crazy land, I have to go to class.

I decided to go out the back door to avoid facing the pumpkin and scarecrow. Good plan, right?

But there it was.

As I opened the door, there stood in front of me a larger than life, bright orange pumpkin. If I ever screamed like a little girl it was now. I was surrounded by growing pumpkins. I was trapped in my own house.

After fleeing back to refuge, I tiptoed across my living room, heart beating and all, to see if the pumpkin had somehow managed to roll itself back to the front. I felt like a little kid again and not in the good way someone would after feeling a jolt of exhilaration. I felt like a little kid because I was petrified. I practically pulled the covers back over my head after hearing a creek in the house. And little by little, as slowly as I could, I bravely pushed the covers back down but just enough for my tiny, scared eyes to see if someone was at my bedroom door ready to kill me.

But now, I buried myself in my living room couch and managed to push my way up. Phew. It’s still in the backyard. Should I make a run for it? Where are my car keys?

I placed my hand back on the couch and searched for my keys without taking my eyes off the front porch. The second I took my eye off the window, I was immediately scared to look up again.

Are you okay?

Hmm. What do you think? Am I okay? Let’s get this straight. My head feels like a stampede ran over it. I can’t stop sweating. A pumpkin that I claim is growing by the minute is giving me nostalgia about when the sound of the air conditioner used to scare me when I was a kid. And I’m screaming like Jennifer Love Hewitt. Oh yeah. And I definitely would not pass a psychiatric evaluation.

Am I okay? Yeah. Sure. Perfectly fine.

Wait. I forgot to mention that I’m having a conversation with the voices that are living in my head.

Am I okay? Absolutely.

The pumpkin is back! Are there two pumpkins? Are there more than two pumpkins?

I didn’t want to get up. I didn’t want to lift myself off the ground nor do I think I’d be able to because my knees didn’t want to stop shaking. I was on the ground because as soon as I looked back out the window, I jumped back and landed flat on my back. Splat!

That’s cool. It’s not like my head isn’t hurting or anything. Let’s add back pains to the equation.

Doctor, meet your new patient.

I had somehow managed to escape the nightmare my house had built and drove to school as fast I could. But like my sleep, I couldn’t even remember driving to school. It’s like I somehow transported from the floor of my living room to the corner desk in Sociology 101.

Stay with us.

I’m paying attention. Relax.

Stay with us.

Not at school too. Please make the voices stop.

Stay with us.

“I’m with you!”

And now, the whole class was focused on me.

I picked up my books and hurried out of class with my head buried in my chest. I didn’t even bother looking at everyone’s faces because I already knew what I would be dealing with. A couple of kids would be holding back their laughter as much as possible while the majority of the class would be staring at me with their mouths wide open, wondering what the hell was wrong with me.

He can’t tell you anything.

Not to mention the way the professor is probably looking at me right now.

What are you doing? You’re driving us crazy.

Oh I’m driving you guys crazy? Get out of my head already.

I ran to my car. I needed to get out of here but unfortunately everywhere I went I was haunted. The voices weren’t silenced at home or at school. At least at school the pumpkin couldn’t hurt me.

Stop shaking so much.

I’m not shaking. I’m running; running from you and your sinister messages. Where could I go to escape from this? My mother didn’t believe me. My sister’s best advice on the matter was telling me to wake up. My professor thinks I’m crazy along with every single one of my classmates.

Alright. Alright. Snap out of it. You’re nineteen years old, not nine. It’s time to man up, go home, and face the music.

I looked down at my cell phone and when I looked back up, I was standing in front of my house. Man, how fast do I drive? How did I get from Farmingdale to New Hyde Park in the blink of an eye?

Was I traveling through time? Did I have some remarkable ability to teleport that I didn’t know about? At this point, anything was possible. I wasn’t ruling anything out. This was the first time I had ever dealt with anything like this. For the majority of my life, nothing remotely exciting ever happened. This was the closest thing to excitement regardless of if it was making me lose my mind. I was in my own adventure, creating my own storyline, leaving nothing to chance. Like I said, anything was possible and I was beginning to believe in these strange occurrences more and more.

But all this thought about the impossible being possible constantly broke my concentration. I was too busy thinking about paranormal activity that I forgot about the giant elephant in the room. Or should I say the giant pumpkin in the room?

I walked into my house still consumed by thoughts of time travel. Kicking my shoes off and leaving them sprawled out on the floor as I did every day, I forgot about something that was not normally a part of my daily routine.

As farfetched as things had been over the past couple of days, I was acting as if today were just another day. With all things considered, I was the one acting abnormal.

I turned my computer and television on, took my shirt off, changed out of my jeans, and opened up my closet to find the shorts I would wear in bed for the rest of the day.

Oh right, the pumpkin. Well…guess what? It was now comfortably residing in my closet as if it were a dirty piece of laundry waiting to be washed. But I didn’t stop to make that comparison. As soon as the closet door swung wide open, I was already sprinting down the stairs. I don’t remember if I was screaming like a seven year old girl again but I probably was.

My temporary lapse of memory loss was erased and as I hid under my kitchen table, the pumpkin was the only thing I worried about. I felt like I was in the middle of a drill during the seventies, preparing just in case the Soviets decided to drop a nuclear bomb on us. How was a wooden table going to stop a giant pumpkin from harming me? But yet again, how was a giant pumpkin supposed to harm me anyway? Was it going to grow arms and legs and find the strength to flip the table and strip me of my protective covering? Was its imaginary mouth going to open and have me for dinner?

I doubt it. What am I hiding from?

Actually, hold on. It is a jack-o-lantern. It does have a face with a mouth and teeth and everything. Who says it can’t grow legs and arms? Every other part of it is growing in rapid fashion. I guess I’m staying under the table then.

Are you okay?

Leave me alone. I have bigger things to worry about.

Are you okay?

I shouldn’t even be acknowledging this absurdity. You’re a make believe voice playing with my head. You’re not real.

Are you okay?

Fine. I’ll play this game for a little. Maybe the pumpkin will go away. Who are you?

It’s your sister.

My sister? My sister is away at school. There’s no way that my sister has found a way to communicate with me telepathically. It’s not like we’re twins or anything.

It’s your sister.

Am I a telepath? I mean, I am already traveling through time and teleporting from one town to another. It’s possible.

“What are you doing under the table?”

“Oh ma, thank God you’re home. You have no idea what’s been going on.”

“Look at me. Why are you under the table? Wake up.”

“Ma, listen to me. Please go upstairs to my room and tell me that there isn’t a giant pumpkin in my closet.”

“A giant pumpkin? How could there be a giant pumpkin in your closet? Wake up already.”

“Ma, I am awake! Stop saying that. Please just go check.”

So she finally listened to me and went upstairs to my room. I anxiously waited for her return. I waited for anything; any signs of life whatsoever. Two minutes later, she came back, knelt down and looked at me like I had three heads. She once again wiped a damp paper towel over my forehead, motioned me to my room, and I nervously obliged.

I didn’t even bother looking in the closet. I lay in my bed and closed my eyes. If the pumpkin wanted me, he could have me. It would probably be better than completely losing my mind despite if I already did or not.

Class? How did I get to class?

Oh forget it. What’s the point in even trying to understand anything anymore? Time to take notes. Time to pay attention. Time to move on with my life and forget about all this insanity that has consumed my life the past week. It was Thursday, thankfully. Once college hit, I realized the greatest perk about it was having the choice to be off on Fridays. As soon as I heard the news, I told them to sign me up and hello three day weekend. Thursday became the new Friday and I now only counted down four days to the weekend.

All I had to do now was get through today. But unfortunately, Halloween was on Sunday. Fortunately, football also took place on Sunday. I kept my I-pod on full blast until class began and was even tempted to keep the music bumping in my ears for the duration of class. I didn’t because I was trying to act as normal as possible today. So far, the voices had not surfaced, pumpkins were nowhere in sight, and I for the first time in a while, felt that I belonged on the reservation; not off of it.

I even raised my hand a couple of times. I answered a couple of questions, threw in my own feedback, and took some pretty thorough notes. Look at me. Student of the day. I was feeling great. My headache was finally gone for good and I wasn’t sweating nearly as much as I had been but I simply blamed the poor ventilation system at school for my residual perspiration.

I may not have remembered driving to school but I remembered driving home. I rolled every window down in my Acura, put the stereo on full blast, and let the crisp, October air fill my car and rejuvenate my body further. I came to the conclusion that the aftermath of the spill I took was more potent than I expected. Well now that the aftermath no longer existed, I had nothing to worry about.

The pumpkin was back to normal; the original size it had been when I clumsily decided to trip over it. The scarecrow seemed even smaller than it originally was. I couldn’t believe that I was actually hallucinating.

A growing pumpkin? Come on now.

Voices in my head? What type of acid trip was I on?

I was feeling so good that I was actually going to hit up a bar with my friends. I told them not to expect me to dress up but I would definitely come out for a couple of beers. I, the crazy kid, was going out with his friends to celebrate Halloween. Who would have thunk it?

I was home from school early so I decided to take a nap and rid myself completely of the batty and berserk.

Oh, what a night. It felt so good to go out and let loose considering it had been long overdue for me to show my presence in a venue other than my home. The bar was crazy packed but I still managed to have a good time and not let my slight case of claustrophobia get in the way. I drank about…

Wait, how much did I drink? I wasn’t drunk. I only had a couple of…

Wait, what did I drink? I can’t even tell you that.

Wait, who was I even with last night? I don’t know.

Wait, where did we go? I don’t have even the slightest clue.

Did I even go out? I honestly don’t think so anymore. Let me check my phone and see how many missed calls I have. Maybe, I slept through the night. Had I been that tired that I was capable of sleeping over fifteen hours? Nope. No missed calls. Weird.

Oh well, at least I feel fresh this morning. I’ll call the guys up and tell them that I am definitely coming out with them tonight even though that’s what I said last night.

The doorbell? Who could it be? We never get any visitors in this house.


Trick-or-treat? You’re a little early, kids. Halloween isn’t for another two days.

“Here you go guys. I love the costumes.”

My mother said, as I listened from the top of the steps. Was she delusional also? Was there some Halloween Eve Eve holiday I didn’t know about?

“Ma, isn’t it a little early for candy and dress-up?”

“If 12:00 in the afternoon is early, than yes. But it’s Halloween. What do you expect? All these kids are so anxious to get their candy. As you were not too long ago.”

“Ma, its Friday. Halloween isn’t until Sunday.”

“Wake up. Are you feeling alright? Today is Sunday.”

“So I’ve been sleeping for two and a half days straight?”

“What are you talking about? Wake up.”

There she goes again. Now my brain was really unhinged. I was mad as a hatter. Cuckoo! Cuckoo!

I lost it.

Wake up.

Oh no, not again. I thought you were gone for good.

Nope, I’ve been here the whole time. I didn’t want to disturb your three day sleeping bender.

Leave me alone. Go away.

I can’t go away. I’m here to help you. Wake up.

What are you my mother?

Not exactly. But she is here. Wake up. Are you alright?

That’s it. I can’t take this anymore. I’m leaving this house.

As soon as I stepped outside there it was again, bigger and scarier than ever.

Ha, ha, ha.

The pumpkin could laugh now? If the pumpkin could laugh than it was definitely capable of eating me.

Wake up. The pumpkin isn’t real.

Yes it is. I’m staring right at it. What’s that touching my back? The scarecrow! It walks? It moves? It touches?

But once again, I ran before the scarecrow could grab me some more and the pumpkin could sink its big, orange teeth into me. I ran and ran and didn’t look back. I ran to my backyard, climbed up onto my deck, stacked up a couple of chairs, and hopped up on top of my roof. I quickly crawled all the way to the front of my house. This was the only place that they couldn’t get me. Pumpkins can’t climb. Scarecrows are too weak to even make it up a flight of stairs. They’re made of straw for crying out loud.

Get down from there! You’re going to get hurt. Keep your eyes open. Wake up.

My eyes are open and I’m not going to get down from here. This is the one place they can’t find me. This is the one place I can silence the voices for good.

How are you going to do that? What voices? Wake up?

What voices? You know what voices I’m talking about. How am I going to do it? I’m going to jump. It’s the only way. I can’t keep doing this. One week of this is all I can take. Nothing seems like it will ever cease. The pumpkin and scarecrow are ready for dinner and are at full force. I hear the voices more than I hear real life people. It’s time to jump. It’s the only way. Here I go.

“What are you doing up there!?”

It was my sister. She and my mother were standing in my driveway, looking up at me in fear and confusion.

“What are you doing home?”

“I came home for the weekend. Get down. You’re scaring us”

“Nope. I can’t. The voices. They won’t stop. The pumpkin and scarecrow are probably making their way up here as we speak. I have to jump. It’s the only way.”

My mother and sister began to say something but I did not hear it. At least, I chose not to hear it. My decision was made. No more voices. No more deranged pumpkins and scarecrows. I’m done with it all. I’m punching my ticket out of crazy-ville. Asta la vista, baby. See you later. I win voices. I win pumpkin. I win scarecrow. Here I go.

And…I jumped.

But I was still alive. I wasn’t splattered all over the concrete of my driveway. I was on my bedroom floor, looking up at my mother and my sister. My head was killing me but mainly because I was incredibly confused.

“Oh thank God. He is finally awake.”

“What happened?”

Was this whole thing one long dream? I couldn’t wait for this explanation.

“I found you lying on the ground, sprawled out on the front steps. It looked like you had tripped over the pumpkin. For the rest of the day, you were in and out of consciousness.

That stupid pumpkin.

“All you kept doing was pointing at the pumpkin.”

As my mother continued with her explanation, I walked over to the window and slowly began to drift off again, catching bits and pieces of my mother’s recap.

“The doctor diagnosed you with a severe concussion. He said delusions, hallucinations, and night sweats would all occur. He told me that you would be in and out of sleep for a couple of days and that I shouldn’t be surprised if I found you wondering around the house.”

That explains everything. I’m just relieved I’m not actually crazy.

“I continuously soaked your head with cold water. I even found you in your car pretending to drive.”

A growing, killer pumpkin? Really?

“There were times we would have full blown conversations where you would respond as if there was nothing wrong. Other times, your sister and I would talk to you and you wouldn’t respond but we knew you could hear us.”

I think I could have handled the pumpkin. I definitely could not handle the voices.

“I heard you running up and down the stairs like you were in some kind of marathon. One night, you actually sat down and had dinner with me but didn’t say anything.”

This is the last time I try to kick a pumpkin.

“I came upstairs to check up on you and found you passed out on the living room floor.”

The weather looks nice. Look at that kid. How many are dressed up as Spiderman?

“That same day, I found you under the kitchen table.”

I hope I didn’t miss the Jets game.

“We came into your room because we heard you talking to yourself and when we walked in, you were on top of your bed threatening to jump off.”

I stopped listening completely.

I couldn’t believe that this whole thing was one long delusional trip down hallucination lane. If it wasn’t for my hatred towards Halloween, I would have never been in this mess of hysteria and insanity. But on this day, Halloween, I obtained a new found respect for the holiday. For what reason, I couldn’t even tell you.

Little by little, it was all coming back to me. I glanced at the pumpkin one last time and my eyes lit up.

“Ma, are you sure the pumpkin didn’t get bigger?”

It did. No need to try and wake up this time…

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