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Unfiltered Story #28278

Unfiltered | December 22, 2016

In high school, my best friend and I (both female) decide to go to a haunted house. Since it’s just the two of us, we’re placed with another group — a young man accompanied by three young women who scream over everything, including things that aren’t scary like guard rails. My best friend and I are pretty stoic people and we don’t react much.

The last part of the haunted walk requires us to crawl through the backseat of an “abandoned” hearse; the girls are all screaming and sobbing and hanging onto him because the setup requires one-at-a-time passage. They all go through with much drama, followed by him with my friend and I bringing up the rear.

Back in the parking lot, he sends his trembling companions off to get hot chocolate or whatever, and I offer him a sympathetic smile. He shakes his head and says to us, “Y’all must’ve been through this thing seventy times! You didn’t react once!”

I sheepishly confessed, “Actually, this was our first haunted house.”

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