Jolene: Betrayed

Jolene: Betrayed 2

After our introductions, Tucker quickly spins around, and hurries to his car. In a less than chivalrous fashion, he proceeds to jump in the driver's seat, turn on his obnoxious car, and spin the radio's volume gauge to high heavens. I can only imagine this is the only way to hear what is on the radio over the aforementioned tail pipes. Just as my ears were beginning to go numb from the earsplitting heavy metal music, Tucker takes his hand off the wheel and turns the volume down low. Maybe we are going to start having actual conversation, and learn something about each other.

"Cal said you caught your old man cheating with a younger girl," Tucker says without skipping a beat.

"Uh yeah, I did. Thanks for reminding me."

"Huh? How could you forget something like that?" Tucker asks, with his face squished up in confusion.

Lord have mercy. As if a haunted house wasn't the worst place to take a lady on a first date; somehow the ride here was worse. This date is off to a rocky start, but I'm trying to remain a glass half full type of girl. We arrive at a haunted house near the city, a very long 45 minutes later. As we pull into the parking lot, I am instantly in awe of the size of this building. The haunted house is situated in the front half of an enormous old warehouse. To the right of the parking lot is a huge wooded area where they offer haunted hayrides, for an extra charge. As we approach the ticket counter, I see the prices listed above the window:

-$12 hayride

-$12 haunted house

-$22 for both

-$5 parking

We arrive at the ticket counter just as the girl working slides the window open to help us.

"Two attractions?" she politely asks Tucker.

"Hell yeah, both!" Tucker excitedly replies.

"That will be $49 please." She replies, incorrectly assuming my date would be paying for me. His date.

In true Tucker fashion, he proceeds to hand the girl $27 for his ticket and parking only. The girl rolls her eyes at Tucker, and looks at me with sympathy as I hand her my $22 entry fee. I offer her a small smile while I glare at the back of Tucker's head. Without so much as a glance back at me, Tucker rushes towards the line; clearly more enthusiastic about the thrills ahead than the date he is supposed to be on.

"Oh well," I think to myself, "let's get this over with."

We are the next group to enter the haunted house, and Pennywise the clown is going over the rules with the group before we can enter. "Do not stop moving forward! Do not touch anything or anyone! Do not shove the person in front of you! Do not split up from the group! Good luck getting out alive!" he shouts, over the screams coming from behind the door. Pennywise lurches open the heavy steel door, and we are shuffled in quickly with the door slamming behind us. It is pitch black dark apart from a strobe light, and I immediately regret this decision. I can hear chainsaws up ahead, and my skin begins to feel prickly. I like a good haunted house as much as the next girl, but something about the sound of a chainsaw really is chilling. Our group begins to inch forward, when Tucker lets out a screeching holler. He looks at me, finally, and yells, "I'M FUCKING PUMPED!" That is only the third thing dumbass Tucker has said to me since we met. I may Uber home at this point.

The first room is a lot of twists and turns, with jump scares every couple of steps. Something is dripping on us randomly, and I'm not completely sure if it is part of the haunted house, or just the old warehouse pipes. The girl in front of me is sobbing miserably, but at least her date is comforting her somewhat. Actually, he looks just as afraid without the tears. Dumbass Tucker is now bouncing up and down with excitement. We begin to make our way through to the next room with only the strobe lights to guide us, and we pass through a doorway with a curtain of chains blocking the way. Oh no. We found the chainsaw room. I suddenly feel as though my feet are made of lead, and I am having trouble moving forward. Tucker shouts in my ear, "Hope ya ain't scared of a little ol' chainsaw!" Ignoring him, I figured out how to move my feet once again and I begin trekking forward. I'm torn between wanting to inch past the wall I know the chainsaw wielding man is behind, and flat out hauling ass to the next room. My choice is quickly made for me, when a man busts out of a trap door in the wall a few feet in front of us. He is dressed in all black, a skeleton print mask covering his nose and mouth, and he is tall. I mean like 6'5 tall. His stature only makes his role scarier as he lurks in front of us, firing the chainsaw up. Lord help me. I once again forget how to walk, when I suddenly feel two hands shove me hard from behind.