Scream Therapy 0

Haunted House 10At KUBE 93fm’s Haunted House, we three not-so-brave souls, Margaret, Machelle and myself clung to each other as we made our way through the Georgetown Morgue, a wicked chamber of calculated terror.   When the first mutilated woman jumped out at me with no forewarning, I smacked her in the nose, which only made her rear up again like a ghastly living nightmare.  Continuing to walk through dark corridors, we found floors collapsing under our feet and threat at every turn. We took turns being in the lead, pushing through dead bodies bundled and hanging in plastic body bags only to have to squeeze through rubber cots with bloody body parts splayed everywhere.  We recoiled from blood–smeared morticians, crazy clowns and tragic characters like scary mothers with dead babies, sick people in wheelchairs and disgruntled crime victims.  The whole time, we screamed our lungs out – so much so that my sides hurt. The continuous raising and lowering of my diaphragm, the unchecked shrieking and laughing, the clutching to the friend in front of me–all of it felt wicked good.  At the end of our tour, when a zombie goon chased us with a running chainsaw into the November chill air, we had to catch our breath. For the next few minutes, we laughed, coughed, spluttered and spit.  Our lungs had a real workout. Who knew terror was such an excellent expectorant?