The Spectre of Sir Archibald Skellybones.

It’s been a rough couple of months for me with a recent move, pets getting anxiety from that and just generally being exhausted.

Having more space and autonomy for the first time I had to actually pony up to decorate more than just my room and a couple little trinkets in the common areas. As such, figuring out how to fit this into my time and money budget is new to me.

My SO is luckily also a Halloweenhead like me so it wasn’t a complete deadzone but I eventually had a breakdown and spent like 45 minutes crying into their shoulder because I felt like 1.) I hadn’t contributed and 2.) you could barely tell I live there because of it. They suggested I go to the local discount store and see what I can find.

The next day I make a plan to head to said discount store and the nearby dollar shop after work, resigned to a picked-over selection because it’s two days before Halloween. My expectations are appropriately low but I’ll make the best of an unfortunate situation and the remains of my mid-month paycheck, I tell myself. I have a party to throw and it’s my sworn duty to make sure my guests have a good time.

I’ve been here once or twice before for unrelated reasons but it turns out this place is more of a hidden gem than I expected. Not only do they have a selection of actual Halloween decor (most places are “harvest” due to being in the Bible belt), it’s still full. They also have lights and party supplies to choose from, for genuinely cheap.

Due to my low expectations I had no actual vision besides finding inspiration. My brain was fried from work, lack of sleep, and my ADHD meds being long worn off.

I have a handful of lights and party favors under my arm when I find myself in the back corner of the shop where the outdoor stuff is. Usual fare; scarecrows, webs, witches. I’m scanning and taking it in when my eyes lock on to what may be my proudest find yet: a light-up skeleton ghost donning a top hat and artfully disheveled chiffon.

The lights themselves were preserved with a plastic battery sticker so I couldn’t discern what it actually would look like but I decided it was coming home with me anyway. I couldn’t find a price tag either but I decided whatever it was going to cost was worth the joy it had already brought me. I grabbed a couple more knickknacks, made my way up to the counter and waited patiently while the cashier manually entered the price of each item into a register that probably hasn’t been updated since the ‘90s. ~$100 in total later I walked out of the shop with my will to live returned to me, no need to hit up the dollar store, and made my way home giddy with my newfound hoard, with a special excitement about deciding where I wanted to put the skeleton decoration.

I came through the door and dumped my bags onto the kitchen table, reaching into each one like Debbie Reynolds in the first act of Halloweentown. I was sufficiently happy with my placement of decorations but I saved the best for last. I pulled the battery sticker off the center pack, flicked on the switch and felt my soul light up along with it. His eyes glow red, his spine is lit up with white LEDs and it complements his outfit beautifully.

I hang him up on my back porch with a giddiness I haven’t felt in years. I secured him with some ribbon, discovered his arms are posable and adjusted them accordingly, and admired his blend of class and boho chic. I immediately knew his name henceforth and refuse to shorten it lest I disservice his description: The Spectre of Sir Archibald Skellybones, first of his name and esteemed guardian of the {last name} household for all foreseeable Halloweens.

He is my spooky pride and joy.

My friend puts on an annual Halloween one shot RPG using dread (jenga tower pulls instead of dice rolls). Yesterday was his 13th. He gave us lab coats and safety goggles to get into character and had made some great props. It was a blast trying to piece back reality before we disappeared due to an experiment gone wrong.