Zombie Hunters Extraordinaire

I'm twelve years old and living in my parents house. It's a Friday night in October and my father and I are snuggled up under blankets playing one of our favorite video games. It's a scary one, which is perfect for the season, and it's late at night; the streets outside are empty and the lights are all turned off throughout the house. One of our favorite past times is playing scary games and watching scary movies. We have nerves of steel, the two of us.

This game in particular is about being stuck in an old abandoned house filled with zombies. The player gets to take control of a character who is tough and good at fighting off these monsters. My dad and I like to discuss how we would survive if we ever ended up in a situation like this. We like to think that we'd be just like the character--if not cooler, even. We could handle something like this, easy as pie.

After a while I decide it's time for some snacks. I unravel myself from the blankets and make my way to the kitchen in slippered feet, flicking on the light, which is bright enough to sting my eyes a little at first. I head toward the cupboard and suddenly freeze in my tracks. On the floor near the sink is the largest, blackest, most long-legged spider I have ever seen. I do the first thing that comes to my mind--when I finally gain control of my limbs again, that is.

I grab a paper towel off of the table next to me and throw it over the beast, screaming for my father. He comes barreling into the room. He catches a glimpse of the culprit before the towel flutters down over it. He screams. Spiders are his biggest fear.

Quick, quick! I yell back, urging him to do something about it before it scampers out from under the towel. I'm hopping from foot to foot like I'm standing on lava.

He frantically looks around, and then settles on the first weapon he can think of. In his hand he's clutching an empty soda bottle. He lunges forward and begins to bring the bottle down on top of the towel over, and over again; screaming a warrior's cry the entire time.

By the time he stops, my mother has made her way down the stairs from her bedroom on the second floor and into the kitchen. She has panic in her eyes.

We explain our peril to her but neither of us move to check under the paper towel. She's the daring one. She inches over and gingerly picks it up from the corner, peeking underneath. Suddenly, she's laughing so hard there are tears in her eyes and she stumbles down to a sitting position. She throws the towel off to the side.

On the floor is a smashed up plastic ring in the shape of a spider—a Halloween decoration my little sister had brought home from school earlier that day, my mother explains to us through gasps of laughter. We stare at her incredulously. My heart is still pounding.

My father and I: Zombie Hunters Extraordinaire.