My grandmother used to warn us kids never to go past that post, and never ever to go into that corn. My parents said she was old and didn't know what she was saying.
It was an afternoon in the middle of summer and a few of my buddies and me had been riding our bikes all day, and ended up farther outside of town than we ever had been before. Soon enough, we were coming up on the old farm my grandmother told me about. I wanted to impress my friends with my legends about the corn, so I called them over. "No one that goes in ever comes back," I whispered creepily. It was funny how scared they got. Until Jerry spoke up.
"I dare you to go in there," he squawked. He had an annoying voice.
"Don't be dumb," I said. "Let's just keep riding." My heart was dancing in my chest as I waited for my friends to back me up. They didn't.
Jerry crossed his arms and cocked his head. "What are you, chicken?"
Those four words are the cause of most of the trouble a kid ever gets himself in. So, of course, I hopped on my bike and took off down the dirt and gravel path. Passing the old wooden post, I closed my eyes and remembered my grandmother's words. But it was too late.
I skid my bike to a stop at the edge of the corn, and turned to face the other kids with my best "tough guy" face. I think it worked, because my buddies, and even Jerry, looked scared of me. Or scared for me - I don't really know which. Without saying another word, I left my bike at the entrance to the cornfield and then kept on walking.
I must have walked a long time before I stopped and looked around. In August, it's pretty quiet outside. Everybody's in their house staying cool, or away for vacation. Well, it was even quieter than that in the corn, and now the sun was starting to go down. I thought about what would happen if I got lost. "Just keep going," I told myself.
I only went a couple steps further when I looked over to the side and saw a man's face between two stalks of corn. He was weird looking, and just when I realized what he was, the corn closed up and he disappeared. That was it, I started running as fast as I could toward what I thought was the way out of there. Then, as soon as I turned a corner, I saw another of those things, but bigger. He was looking right at me! A rustling sound came from behind me, and then I heard a chainsaw start up. They were coming at me from all sides!
I ran harder than I've ever ran in my life, hoping each step was going to land outside the corn. I saw a flash of light up ahead. The exit! I threw myself forward, and broke through the edge of the corn.
I hit the ground, and tried to crawl away. But before I could move an inch, there were dozens of arms grabbing at me. I tried kicking and rolling, but then one grabbed my leg, then two, then three. These hands were all over me now dragging me back into the corn. The last thing I remember seeing were my fingers digging into the ground as I tried to pull myself out. Then, everything went black.
All along, my crazy grandmother had been right. Never go past that wooden post, and never ever go into that corn. And now you know why. But, it's not so bad in here now. We eat every Halloween, and whenever some dumb kids decide to be brave. Yeah, I'm starting to like it in this place. SO WILL YOU...