Halloween has always been on my list of things I love, however that love was tested two years ago when I became part of a haunted house in town.

As a huge fan of this holiday, and a naturally dramatic person, when I saw the classified ad for actors in a haunted house, I couldn’t pass it by. 

My interview was slightly suspicious, as the most difficult question asked of me was to scream. I was in a play my sophomore year of college where screaming was basically my only line, therefore it didn’t take much for the owners of the haunted house to offer me a job. I accepted, of course. Who wouldn’t accept a job that pays you for scaring people anyway?

On my first day of work, a brief walk-through with the lights on was given—the configuration of the haunted house was maze-like and built inside a building—and if you’ve never seen a haunted house with the lights on before, I’ll tell you from personal experience, it’s corny. Masks were passed out to employees rather than badges, and I started to feel like I found a temporary home. Then came my real first day of work.

One thing you must know about me is that I absolutely hate going barefoot, so it’s only right that I got stuck in the “bathroom scene,” standing in a filthy bathtub half-dressed and barefoot. Who would have thought that the only barefoot role in the haunted house would be awarded to me? Just my luck I suppose.

It didn’t take long for the questionable chainsaw man to discover his room was right down the hall from mine. Even though I knew the chainsaw was fake, I continued to scream bloody murder every single time he stepped foot into my room. I guess my scream is the reason I was hired anyway. Maybe the chainsaw man thought I should put it to use. 

Not long after people actually started paying the outlandish $25 to walk through the haunted house with amateur actors, I realized that I couldn’t scare a fly if I tried. I probably scared about three people total in the three weeks I worked at the haunted house. 

I was fired from the bathroom scene and moved to an old lady role, where I scared a few more, but also almost got punched about four times. The final location for me was a pitch-black room with shock pads on the walls. All I had to do was stand at the end and shine a light on my masked face and scream. Guess what? I still didn’t scare anyone.

To make it worse, I tried to do my homework in the pitch-black room, but kept getting interrupted by the “managers” who made me feel like I was a victim of a sketchy episode of “Law and Order: SVU.” Needless to say, I quit without notice, and have never stepped foot in a haunted house since. 

The moral of the story here is don’t pay $25 for a haunted house. You will be disappointed.