I'll Risk Everything To Save My Shoes

There are many perks to being born the day after Halloween.

Other than the obvious reasons of candy and caramel apples, I mean.

For one, it's All Hallows Day, or All Saints' Day.

How appropriate.

The day has also never left me high and dry when it comes to birthday party planning. When all else fails, a Halloween party will suffice.

Which brings me to All Hallows Eve, October 31 2009.

My friends and I got gussied up in sweater dresses and tights and dined at Chili's to celebrate 19 years of my precious existence.

We then decided to visit Little Rock's most notorious haunted house.

The location: an old, abandoned hospital for the mentally insane.

It was a dark chilly night. It was Halloween. It was a mental hospital. The setting was just right.

Chills chased their way up my skin as we walked up the sidewalk towards the entrance. The man at the door taking money was dressed in old patient garb.

Awesome.

We entered into a small room. There were people grouped up in anticipation. I stood behind my friend and fisted the back of her shirt.

"I'm standing behind you the whole time," I informed her.

Then the "tour of the hospital" began.

It was completely dark and I blindly followed my friend.

Half-way into the tour I decided it wasn't that bad. If I kept reminding myself that it "wasn't real," I would be fine.

People would grab my feet.

It's not real.

Objects would fly out.

It's not real.

We finally got to the end of the tour and I relaxed, releasing my friends shirt.

We were laughing at how scared we were when we heard a loud noise.

RRRRRUUUUUUUUUUUMMMMMMMMMMM!

I glanced behind me to see a man running towards us with a chainsaw. Terror I had never known filled my body and my feet started moving faster than they ever had.

Everything was whizzing by me.

I was aware of things jumping out to scare me.

Oh no, nothing was stopping me.

I was getting out of there.

My feet continued to propel me forward when,

WHAM!

I ran right into a glass door.

My body flew backwards from the force, knocking my shoes off and ripping my tights in the process.

In a flash, a friend picked me up and drug me as she ran.

"My shoes!" I screamed and ripped away from her.

As I ran towards the Texas Chainsaw Massacre, I realized that I am the dumb blond bimbo in horror movies that people throw popcorn at.

That's me.

I was risking my life (ha-ha) to save my pink flats.

My personal revelation didn't slow me down any. I had my flats scooped up and was back to my friend before the man hacked me to pieces.

We reached the car and looked at each other as the moment came rushing back.

We were breathing heavy and the October air was coming out in wafts of steam.

Then, we burst into hysterical laughter.

I never saw that door coming.