Halloween to me is what Valentine’s Day is to most single people 8212; I dread its coming and I look forward to its passing. So how does a coward like me spend it?

I tell my younger brothers days ahead of time that I won’t be able to take them trick-or-treating because I’m not feeling well. It isn’t a lie; I’m afraid of walking by the lawn décor in front of people’s houses, especially the ones with fog machines and gurgling, monstrous laughs emanating from hidden speakers. The clammy hands and mini heart attacks are not worth the cheap candies at the end of the path. I remind them that we can always drive to Target and buy our own treats, amid their complaint that there’s no fun in that.

As for dressing up in costumes, which they’re already hinting that they won’t have a chance to do because of me, I say that their faces are scary enough to send me into shock every time I see them. We can always wear the free masks from Comic-Con and have a three-person party indoors.

My friends will try to talk me into watching a classic horror movie with them. I’ll reply that as much as I’d love to, it is my duty to stay home and watch PG-rated movies with my family. I, of course, omit that I am the one who chooses all the movies for us to watch. They’ll suggest postponing it to my availability. I hesitantly request to watch it while the sun is still out because um … I need to sleep early.

To give myself a good scare, I’ll read “I Am Legend” with just a book light on. When I’m confident enough, I’ll play with my reflection in the mirror using the book light, pretending to be Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. I can only pray that I won’t see a skeletal, ghostly figure with a sinister smile in the corner of the mirror, lips pursed to say, “Boo.”

&-Kathryn Danganan is a communication senior.

&-This column does not necessarily reflect the opinion of The Daily Aztec.