That magic time of year has come and gone in Chandler (Alumni, if you weren’t following) and it certainly has conjured upmanyamemory from high school.
As I took photos of this year’s graduating class walking down the street in their costumes, I remembered my own experience strutting down the street dressed as Mother Theresa, arm-in-arm with my best friend at the time, Melissa, who was dressed as a Hooter’s waitress. We did many things together back then, though I will say the most daring was the one night we braved sneaking out of my house.
It was a warm evening in the spring and we were 16 or 17. Melissa was over for one of our many sleepovers. On the property adjoining ours stood one of the more famous “haunted” houses. So much so that my great-uncle would sometimes drive by on the weekends after dark to make sure there were no teenagers loitering about. The house was old and barely standing. Going out in daylight was not a very safe, which made it that more dangerous at night with just the light of flashlights. However, that never stopped the brave (or foolhardy depending on how you look at it) from making visits.
Melissa and I decided it was time to see what all the fuss was about. Also, neither of us had snuck out before, so there was a bit of excitement there. My bedroom was previously the garage, so there was a door at the back that we could use. All we had to do from there was sneak through the backyard over to the path that lead to the old rock house.
As long as we were quiet, there was no way my parents would know we were gone.
Off we went, battling pasture, weeds and rusted gates and fences. And being sure not to step in cow patties. It was the wildest thing we had ever done in our wholesome teen years. We felt rebellious, laughing and joking as we crept through the pasture that connected the homesteads.
But we grew a bit quieter when we approached the house. During the day, it looked like any other abandoned house. At night, it looked like it came straight off the set of a slasher flick. The white rock almost glowed in the moonlight and it was silent. Living in the country, you were used to how insanely silent it could be at night, but this night, it was beyond creepy. We stood at the back of the house, looking up at the broken windows, with nothing more than the occasional breeze to greet us.
“Should we go in?” “I don’t know, it could be dangerous. The inside is all ripped up so we have to be careful.”
Of course we were going to go in. That was the whole reason we were there. To go inside the haunted house at night.
So we carefully walked up on the back porch and went in. The only sound was the crunching of our feet on the old plaster and sheetrock that littered the kitchen.
We quietly crept through the house, even though there wasn’t a soul close enough to hear us. We sidestepped the gaping hole in the floor where the cellar door used to be, careful not to look inside should an evil spirit be dwelling there. We moved through the dining room and into the living room, the beam from the flashlight bouncing around. There was still fairly good light, being so late at night. The moon poured in through the windows, making it a bit easier to navigate through the debris.
Despite the eeriness, it didn’t seem all that haunted, we told ourselves. Or perhaps that was just us trying to talk ourselves out of being afraid. After poking around a bit, we stopped in front of the stairs leading up to the second floor, contemplating if we wanted to go up.
That’s when suddenly a bright beam of light flooded in through the windows at the front of the house. We both screamed and held on to each other, before realizing it was the headlights of a car.
Melissa and I whispered to each other about who it could be or whether we should go outside when we heard a burst of laughter.
It was my dad. Feeling a bit sheepish and worried I was about to get grounded, the two of us walked outside to find dad standing next to his car. I asked how he knew we had snuck out. Dad rolled his eyes before laughing again.
“We were sitting on the back deck when you two walked right by us. I waited about 10 minutes before following you over.”
It’s probably a good thing that was the only time I attempted to sneak out of the house, seeing as I wasn’t very good at it. Thankfully, neither of us got in trouble, probably because that was about the least rebellious thing we could do while sneaking out.
Still, I remember feeling a sense of accomplishment. We had, after all, gone to the haunted house at night and lived to tell about it.