Mine would be the time my dad rigged a harness and “hung” himself from the carport beam, dressed to look like a stuffed Halloween decoration. He would grab at the bigger kids and parents when they came up to the door for candy. Scared the living bejeezus out of them.
I was like 9 and in a new school. My aunt died in a car crash that October. Days later, we’re at the most famous haunted house in the city, my parents had agreed to something months prior.
Anyway, 9 years old, horror house, haunted secret hallways, scary basements. October.
I don’t know what that means but, it always makes me feel something.