This year, I’ve decided to go as a zombie version of Elsa.
I never want to buy anything from Party City thats already been put together because its not unique enough.
And its not cheap enough.
Pelly Benassi
This year, Ive decided to go as a zombie version of Elsa.
I bought a long, draping, blue dress that looks like it comes from the Victorian period.
I sewed a floor-length shawl to the back.
What can I say?
I like scaring children.
Its the one day of the year I can get away with it.
And its not like their parents are going to mind.
Even though its still a few weeks until Halloween, Im pretty much ready to go.
At least, IthoughtI was ready to go.
The other day, I bought a cheap bedazzling kit.
I wanted to add sparkles to the sides of my dress to make the fabric sparkle like ice.
But when I opened my closet to grab the dress, it wasnt there.
It wasnt hanging in the guest closet either.
No one has a key to my apartment.
There was no way someone had been inside my home, no way someone had taken my dress.
Now, I might be big on horror movies, but Im not big on ghost stories.
I asked about the gown he had sold me.
He told me he wasnt allowed to give out private information.
But he let a few details slip.
It only took me an hour to track down the woman who owned the dress before me.
Once I learned her name, I did some research on her.
And found an obituary.
She had died three days earlier, the day Id noticed my dress was missing.
I went to the wake.
I dont know why.
I didnt know her.
And its not like she would be able to give me any answers about my missing dress.
But something compelled me to visit.
It couldnt have beenmyblue dress because the shawl wasnt sewn onto the shoulders.
The chest wasnt covered in blood.
But it looked identical.
I made up a fake story about knowing her from a friend of a friend.
Before I left, I summoned the courage to ask him how she had passed.
Something had been impaled straight through her chest.
