A Halloween Story

A Monster Therapy Session

“Now don’t feel awkward, we’re all here to share our problems. Just tell us how you feel.” I gave our newest member of group an encouraging, sympathetic look.
“I feel so persecuted, so violated. They won’t even let me have my eternal rest!” The Mummy buried his face in his bandaged hands.
“Tell me about it! I got nuts chasing me with guns and silver bullets! How can they afford silver bullets in this recession?” The Wolfman scowled.
Dracula flashed his fangs in return. “At least you do not have teenage girls hounding you. Oh, how I hate Twilight! I believe I preferred it when all I had to contend with were mobs and wooden stakes.”
I glanced over at the Headless Horseman. He was hunched over as usual, with an air of dejection. Poor man, it was so hard to participate in a discussion without a mouth, or a head. I might have to adjust his depression medication again.
“Have any of you been trying to socialize as I suggested? Let people get to know the real you, to see past the image?”
“I have.” Frank joined in the conversation. We had shortened his name some time ago; Frankenstein’s Monster was too much of a label. “I went to a Halloween party a few days ago; no one knew I wasn’t wearing a costume. I just blended in. It was so freeing and I had a great time. I just wish they would treat me that way all the time.”
I reached over and patted his shoulder. “They will, eventually. This is what the group therapy is for, to help you integrate into society.” I glanced at the clock.
“Well, it is time to end the session for today. Now remember, try and socialize, and no incidents.” I gave them a stern look. “That means no dismemberment, Wolfman, and no bloodsucking, Dracula. I don’t want a repeat of last Halloween.”
I ushered everyone to the door with a smile. “I’ll see you all the same time next week.”