As a six-year-old I pushed into celebrating my first Halloween. I had the most adorable sparkly, black and orange witch costume that was completed by the perfect pointy hat. My parents are divorced, so I was with my dad that weekend, and he insisted on taking my sister and I around the neighborhood for the Halloween treats. I was young; Halloween had a lot of hype, probably way too much hype. I expected to see witches flying across the moon, zombies chasing irresponsible teens through the cemeteries, or at least see ghosts in the window of an abandoned house. Did I see any of that? No. What did I see? The inside of my crazy aunt’s home, crying little kids dressed as pumpkins, and mini vans … so many mini vans. 

The only other time I went trick-or-treating was my fifth grade year when my best friend Molly talked me into it. “It’ll be a great time, Alyssa. Think of all the fun we’ll have, Alyssa.”  I’m sorry, Molly, I love you and all, but the snow, terrible candy, and throbbing feet didn’t make me like Halloween anymore.

I hate Halloween. I’ve tried to understand why people are so into it, but for the most part I don’t know why people even bother? 

Maybe it’s just me, but I’m sorry that I refuse to dress in a pleather Cat Woman costume just to have some drunk pirate grab me booty in search of me treasure. I’ve never understood this phenomenon with dressing up as someone you could never be, dropping $50+ on haunted houses, hospitals, forests, barns, jails, tree houses, fields, shacks, schools and bathrooms, or encouraging your children to dress like the cast of Jersey Shore. 

I mean to offend any of you who still think trick-or-treating is acceptable. People think you’re an idiot. Past sixth grade, trick-or-treating is no longer acceptable. I’m sorry that I had to break the news to you. If you’re above the age of 13 and still want to celebrate Halloween, do it in your room watching “Nightmare on Elm Street” or “Friday the 13th,” not pushing little kids down to get the best candy. 

OK. Confession: I did enjoy part of Halloween when I was in seventh grade. My neighbors have a cactus in their yard that overflows into the street. My friend Hannah’s mom was driving kids around in her mini van and parked only feet away from the prickly plant. Hannah’s little brother then proceeded to crash, full-speed, into the cactus. He let out a great howl and then started crying. Don’t worry, he was fine. I knew he couldn’t be too injured, because he ran up to my porch to grab Hannah. No Halloween will quite match it.

I guess I will never understand why Halloween is such a big deal to society. Maybe I’m just being stubborn and refuse to try to understand. Or maybe society is a large group of idiots who will probably wake up the next morning regretting the decision they made the night before. Oh well, who am I to judge? I won’t even bother with Halloween anymore.