Horror house

 The door creaked open, and I looked up, expecting to see cocky teenagers or snarky 20 somethings here for their 'variety date in a Horror house'. It took me a second to look down and locate the wide eyes squeezed close to see through the dark. Getting up from my station at the entrance of the house, I smile at the kid - dressed fancy, neon t shirts and a bright pink love-in-Tokyo holding together all of the 20 hairs on her tiny head.

As expected, she flinches- a white gown and sharp teeth with smudged lipstick and eyeshadows is becoming for a ghost, but is not quite welcoming for a kid of 4. She lets out a scream and tries to turn back as the doors of the horror house shuts on her. Beating at the door, she is asking to be rescued, she is calling out for her mother. 

Her wails echo lightly through my own soul - recollections of handing over my baby, having made to sign something, the two tear drops that forced their way out of my eyes before the daze of the medicines took over. 

Soothing out my palpitations, I remind myself that now She is priority. This kid is calling for her mother, who was locked out by these mechanical doors. With some weird tugging at my heart I walk towards her, while rubbing my face to take off the make up I had so painstakingly fussed over. 

She is still screaming, now asking God to save her from ghosts. I try that tactic- "hey now, its okay! God sent me here to take you through and help you with the other ghosts; I promise you, they are all scared of me, if you come with me, I can take you to your mother in just 5 minutes!"

She regards me with suspicion, smart kid. "You are God's friend?". Why not? "Yes, I am God's best friend. God is a little busy helping some adults, so I came to help you". "The ghosts here, do they obey you? Is it like how Amma wants me to obey her?" It had been long since kids had wandered into the horror house, so her innocent questions about me were doubly joyful. 

I laughed and took her hand and noticed her eyes go wider. With that cue, I dropped them, asking her to instead walk beside me. "Why didn't you wait for your mother, you wanted to see the ghosts all by yourself?" "No!" and her eyes welled up, just as I was priding myself on deftly handling the kid. 

"He told me that my mother is a ghost! He told me Amma wasn't my Mother! I want to see AMMAAAAAAAA!!! I couldn't find my Mother here, I want to see Ammmaaaa"

A chill came over me, just standing their and hearing this sweet stranger pour out her life's woes. Like always, a faint hope sprung- the cold logic of the odds of meeting my kid in a horror house wasn't something my fool's heart wanted to consider. 

I kneeled beside the kid, trying to take her hand. She brushed it off and wiped her nose, and screamed right into my ears. 

Should I just do it? An urgent recklessness took over me, I weighed the pros and cons of acting like her estranged mother in a second. Once again, emotion won over logic as I Shouted over her wails - "Ayy, you came to meet me, finally! I have been waiting for a while now!" 

Surprisingly, she managed to hear me through the combined background noise in the house and her wails. Her face lit up for a second. before suspicion dawned again. "You are my ghost mother? Is that why God sent you? What is my name? Do you know my name?"

"Kanna, why will I not know your name? God sent.." Whatever story was cooking was interrupted by her squeal- "That IS my name! You are a Ghost! He was right!" One more squeal and then she took off before me. 

Catching up with her right before the jump scare skeleton, I managed to rein her in and pace the scare from the skeleton, introducing it as my next best friend after God. 

As we neared the exit, I felt the weight in my heart- I'd brought it on myself. I felt so grateful for the 20 minutes that I got to give a form to the shadow in my dreams and have it call me Mother. Thankyou God, my dear best friend :)

The doors opened, bringing with it the reality waiting to shatter my hopeful fantasy. "Amma!" She ran into the arms of a woman who looked ready to faint; "My Mother is a Ghost! She is God's best friend!'

"Where did you run off to,  you should have waited Kanna!" I see her kneel down and speak in measured tones, trying not to freak her daughter out. Her eyes are less discreet. they fill over with relief. 

"Amma, that's my mother, God's best friend!" I see her point and turn as the automated doors close on me, ending my interlude of joy and shunning me to the horrors of living.