Today was one I had been dreading.
My mom had convinced me to go to the haunted hayride with some friends.
I was terrified.
As we stood in line, Michael Myers and a creepy zombie circled us—
I hid behind my friend.
When we got into the wagon,
it started out fine.
Then I began trembling…
crying…
hyperventilating…
Words caught in my throat,
but never surfaced.
Afterward, when it was all over,
my father compared me to my fearless friends.
His words stung more than the terror did.
I wish he could understand
how hard I tried to be like them.
