Describe your best high school memory.
Imagine, if you would, screams of fear; zombies, blood, and a chainsaw-wielding madman. No, this isn’t a glimpse inside of my mind, but a depiction of the most fascinating and amusing experience from high school.
For five years, I worked (volunteered) in a haunted house, Spooky Acres. The hours were long, and the work arduous. We opened at seven, and would often leave at one in the morning or later. Every October for five years, my voice would die. Screaming at the top of your lungs over seven-hundred times a night and constantly breathing in the thick haze from the fog machines (it was everywhere) takes its toll. I have been punched in the face and kicked in the gut by exceptionally scared guests. Despite these egregious difficulties, it was an experience I will never forget. Sure, the scaring part is enjoyable, but what goes on outside of the scares is what was most important. The workers would gather, talk, have fun, goof off, and generally be silly. As you can imagine, the haunted house business attracts some very interesting individuals. The volunteers quickly became a tight-knit group, and no night was ever dull or uneventful. How could it be when you and everyone else looks like this:
