Putting the Spooky Back in Spooky Season

Put the Spooky Back in Spooky Season

An Open Letter to Gen Z

“Spooky season,” as you people call it, is in full swing. It seems that for you, this mostly means the return of the “PSL,” which I assume stands for something like “Pumpkin and Sweater Life,” as it makes far more sense than the vegetable-coffee drink the tricksters outside Starbucks described. I ask you, tricksters, to please pull out Instagram and just try to scroll without coming across a picture of people in sweaters holding pumpkins. That’s what I thought. 

I write to you now, as a generation, to show you that there is so much more to this season than pumpkins and sweaters. We are losing the “spooky” of “spooky season,” despite my best efforts to preserve it. Halloween has always been my favorite and busiest time of year. How could someone not love a holiday in which blood and gore and fear is not only expected and unquestioned, but encouraged?! A holiday in which no one looks twice when you’re strolling around town in a mask, soaked in the blood of your victims. It really is a tragedy that this holiday only comes around once a year. 

My efforts to keep the spirit of Halloween alive began roughly 15 years ago, before the spookiness was even in jeopardy. Back then, I began my ongoing tradition of selflessly dedicating my own precious time, skills, and energy to really bringing that classic Halloween experience to life for others. In order to make the biggest possible impact on the highest number of people in such a small amount of time (one night only), I must carefully select a location to maximize the impact of my services. Over the years I’ve brought the interactive and immersive Halloween experience to life in 7 sorority houses (across 3 colleges and 5 chapters), 4 haunted houses (some hosted by sororities), 2 abandoned buildings (popular Halloween hangouts for teens), 1 hospital (never again, what a bunch of downers), and 1 company retreat (props to the guy who suggested a “spooky cabin in the woods” on Halloween night). 

In the earlier years, it brought me so much joy to see the enthusiastic reactions on the surprised faces when I arrived. We used to have fun with it. I could be creative and spontaneous. I could give each recipient of my Halloween gift a unique and customized experience. Every encounter was new and different. In the last few years, however, the encounters began to lack energy and individuality. The joy is gone. Before, I loved what I did and never worked a Halloween night in my life. Now, the love is gone and Halloween is starting to seem like work. I used to think I could renew my joy alone, but, after yet another lackluster experience last year, I admit that I am unable to revive this holiday on my own. That’s why I need your help. 

The detriment to this holiday is not any change in my approach, but rather the change in response that’s come with your generation. Previously, my Halloween surprise has been met with terror and people attempting escape, pleading for mercy, and fighting back with the kind of strength only adrenaline can fuel. Now, I face your generation’s indifference, your apathy carelessly wasting all of my hard work and effort. 

Last year, for instance, I tried to re-ignite some of the fiery passion of my previous endeavors, looking to the best year of my career for ideas. In the past, the KKG girls, granted they were different girls at the time, were such great sports during my time at their house 9 years ago. Looking further into it, I was delighted to find that last year we had the added intensity of all current members knowing the spooky story of my last visit. A spooky backstory is Halloween Killer 101 for “raising the stakes.” Yet, upon my arrival, my renewed excitement was met only with disappointment. This Halloween, I hope this letter helps us, together, to avoid the problematic behaviors exhibited last year and bring back our enjoyment of the holiday. 

1. Don’t invite the strange masked man staring through the window and weilding a bloody knife inside to “meet everyone.” Getting into the building is part of the challenge and the anticipation of whether or not I’ll succeed, or maybe already have succeeded, should be part of your excitement.
2. Don’t use “share a sister’s biggest weaknesses and how to exploit them” as an icebreaker game. I mean, don’t invite any suspicious individuals to play any icebreaker games, but even had I not been there, a bunch of young women telling each other’s weaknesses is destined to lead to a bloodbath in a sorority house. 
3. The problem for me is probably obvious, but to be clear I’ll elaborate: Where’s the spontaneity, the guesswork, the danger of wondering if this next girl secretly knows Jiu Jitsu and isn’t afraid to use it?
4. Don’t silently back into a corner I’m blocking instead of running through the cracked door or open first-floor window, or calling for help (with the phone in-hand or just by screaming, I’m not picky). 
5. Probably too specific to be its own numbered item, but don’t say “Oh no, you’ve got me now. There’s no hope for escape at this point” sarcastically. It felt-- I mean would feel, hypothetically-- pointed and intended to mock me, which seems unnecessarily mean. 
6. Not that words of some sorority girl are going to keep me up at night, but I feel it’s important to note that by this point I’d already endured half a night of low energy and minimal effort and the exits were intentional, to create more challenge. 
7. I guess being ungrateful comes with being an upper-class attractive girl who’s probably been handed everything in her life, but still. I put a lot of work into the night. 
8. Don’t forget to react. It’s no fun to jump out of nowhere in front of the tv when I don’t even get an eyebrow twitch or a shiver.
9. This goes with 3a, but don’t say  “either kill me or stop blocking my view; I honestly don’t even care which” or any similarly indifferent quips

All of this leads back to one master rule, which, if followed, should prevent all the above mistakes from happening:

1. Don’t undervalue my efforts to give you a truly scary Halloween.

While some of these examples may appear to be specific to possible events of last year, I feel that they adequately cover the general concepts I find problematic. I am aware that providing “what not to do” is not an acceptable or clear request for how to improve this year so, to provide some guidance, I also have some advice for what you could do in order to optimize this experience for both of us. 

1. Do scream. It’s not only instrumental to the holiday, but also therapeutic for you AND it ups your chances of rescue. Honestly it’s just such a crime to leave it out. I should know. 
2. Do run. At least try to escape. Who knows? Maybe you’ll be the first to succeed. If you don’t want to do this for my benefit, do it for, like, revenge or something? Don’t you want me to have to work for it?
3. Do fight. If not for your own self respect, which I now suspect your generation lacks, then for your family’s pride when your body is found. Give them the privilege to say you were “a fighter till the end.” Families love that stuff. 

• Do dare to be different. Try to vary from the cliches of horror movies. It’s boring, it makes you look basic, and I’ve seen them all before. Try to surprise me. I challenge you. 

This Halloween, I beg of you, don’t let the spirit of Halloween die out completely. Meet me halfway in my efforts and put on a show of fear, even if it’s fake, for the sake of the holiday. No one wants to be the wet blanket that ruins everyone else’s fun, so don’t be. This holiday season, I look forward to seeing those scary movies brought to life. We can do it if we work together. 

Don’t let me down. Again. 

Yours Truly,

Your Spooky Savior