When it comes to haunted houses and Halloween experiences, I am an amateur. There, I said it. I’ve probably been to about two haunted houses — the last one was in junior high. I came two bloody surgeons away from shouting the safe word, “SpongeBob.” But this year, I decided to face my fears at the Newberry Cornfield Maze. After forking over just $15, I really had no choice.
Drive 20 minutes west out of Gainesville, Florida, and that’s where you’ll find the corn maze location. To me, it’s seemingly in the middle of nowhere, but to locals, it’s Newberry. You can see the stars without the city lights tainting the sky.
The Newberry Cornfield Maze had an interesting atmosphere. Unrecognizable country music blasted in the air. Security yelled at person after person trying to jump the fence of the crowd waiting to enter the makeshift haunted house. The area was nearly pitch black without the spotlights in the distance. Shouts of joy could be heard from the children playing. Shouts of terror could be heard from the adults just beyond the walls.
Piled within the wobbly wooden boards that formed the line, I shifted as my shoes sank into the mud. I felt slightly energized and slightly regretful even being there. Luckily, I brought my two trusted companions to flank my sides and hold my hands. Enter Natasha and Elydia.
I didn’t have to speak out loud to feel the nerves pulsing throughout my body and know that they felt it too. But maybe, I had to say it at least 10 times, for my own sake.
Despite my repetitiveness, Natasha and I argued over who would stand in the middle. Freddie Krueger and Jason kept popping up in line before we could reach a definitive decision. It was too late. Before I knew it, I was being whisked into the bus to hell that is the entrance of the house. I couldn’t see a thing. I clenched Natasha’s hand as we were rushed forward. Luckily, Elydia took the ultimate sacrifice of leading the way. I, of course, kept my hood on and avoided looking up.
It’s what you would’ve expected — but I didn’t know what to expect. This was now my third official time in a haunted house. A man in a doctor’s coat thundered towards me, and suddenly, the word “SpongeBob” crept up my throat. Instead, I screamed, laughed nervously and continued on my way. It quickly became quite amusing as Natasha and I kept switching places. We ran into the familiar masks of Freddie Krueger and Jason. They quickly became friendly ones, as we grew confused and lost, continuing to walk in circles. Thankfully, Jason directed us in a gruff voice, “Straight and to the right.”
I politely responded with a thank you.
We eventually made it back into the open field after dodging several clowns, stretching walls and demonic nuns. Before relief could spread throughout my body, a sign reading “Welcome to The Purge” came into sight. A buzzing sound alerted my ears. A purge-themed corn field maze, are you kidding me?
A woman greeted guests as they cautiously approached. I complimented her on her outfit, then my eyes zeroed in on the chainsaw in her hands. Not even five steps into the darkened corn field, they pounced. No light, no sight. Just the sound of chainsaws. We tried to brave through it, but we were surrounded. Natasha and I only had to glance at each other to communicate, “Nope, we’re out.”
As we attempted to maintain ann unbothered façade, we realized that our fearless leader, Elydia, was nowhere in sight. Turning back to the unknown, I noticed two figures to my left. It was Elydia crouched on the ground as the masked man nonchalantly stuck the chainsaw near her face. We pulled our friend from the broken stalks and got the hell out of there. The record time: less than two minutes.
Though I should have been traumatized (Elydia more so), I had a great time. I conquered a great feat with some amazing people and kicked off spooky season. I’m coming for you, Halloween Horror Nights.