The year I turned four, my mother borrowed a witch costume from my aunt and dressed up for Halloween. I will never forget the trauma of watching that beautiful woman transform into a dark disfigured creature. She put on the voluminous black dress first. When she tugged a rubber mask over her face and secured the black stringy wig and pointed hat, she turned to look at me. All trace of her sweet face had disappeared, replaced by wrinkles, warts, and a huge hook nose. I swallowed hard and stepped away. My heart stopped for a moment, I blinked, trying to dislodge the nightmarish image, but it wouldn't go away.
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