My tween goth phase meant lots of dark clothing adorned with skulls and half-dyed purple hair, an era my childhood best friends tease me about to this day.

I wasn’t shy about my obsession with the strange. I opted to be a vampire with blood dripping down her face over a Cheetah Girl on Halloween. My favorite movie was “Labyrinth,” a dark psychological romp featuring David Bowie as the Goblin King. Late nights with my mom and grandma meant binging the true crime series “Snapped.”

So in a nod to my own love of the macabre, I sought out the Maryland kids who prefer things just a little bit twisted, too.

They didn’t disappoint.

This creepy doll isn’t actually haunted. Probably.

Cristy Gardner says her 4-year-old daughter, Emma, is quick to abandon toys she no longer plays with. But every time Gardner tries to put a ceramic doll named Ella in the giveaway pile, Emma pulls it right back out.

“It’s right up there with her Minnie Mouse stuffies, and she will just not get rid of this thing,” said Gardner, who lives in Gambrills.

The doll is small and pale, with just one tuft of blonde hair sticking straight up like a mohawk. She’s dressed in a Victorian-style lace dress that consumes her body. Though her eyes are closed, they’re the kind you’d watch in an empty room just in case they open.

Emma and Ella have been inseparable since the former found the doll, a gag gift of sorts from one of Gardner’s friends, in her mom’s car two years ago. Emma loves the doll’s hair and dress, and making her lips say “mama.” And while her 13-year-old sister Ana Richardson says the doll is creepy, Emma insists that she’s cute.

Ana and Ella are decidedly not friends. When Emma begs her older sister to take the doll to bed, Ana has to wait until Emma falls asleep so she can get some distance by putting it in the hallway.

“I don’t think it’s haunted,” Gardner said. “But I think that potentially I’ve seen enough scary movies that I know what could happen if it was.”

Feeding a new obsession

Eliot Schaeffer could never sit for a full-length movie. His mom, Carly Schaeffer, had to break films into 20-minute pieces to hold her autistic 5-year-old’s attention.

But Eliot watched all of “Little Shop of Horrors” without asking for a break. Though the movie is “pretty scary” and a “little bit gory,” Eliot became obsessed with the soundtrack, belting out songs like “Mean Green Mother From Outerspace” in his mom’s car.

The Howard County kindergartner is normally drawn to Minecraft, astronomy and memorizing facts, hobbies that bear little resemblance to the dark comedy about a plant that looks like a Venus fly trap but feasts on human blood. But it’s something Eliot can bond over with his mom, who still savors the memory of seeing the musical at the Hippodrome with her dad.

Eliot has taken to telling everybody, even his bus driver, that he’s going to be a plant for Halloween. Dad and Mom will join in as the “Little Shop of Horrors” plant’s owner, Seymour, and his love interest, Audrey.

If Schaeffer decides she wants a break from her son’s obsession, she’s probably out of luck. When she tries to play other music in the car, Eliot will use voice activation to demand his favorite song: “No, no car, play ‘Feed me!’”

Siblings that haunt together, stay together

After eight years of volunteering at the Fort Howard Haunted Dungeons, Connor Mosmiller hit his stride as Art the Clown from the “Terrifier” franchise.

“I remember I walked through once and they put a chainsaw on me, and I pretty much climbed the side of one of these buildings,” said Connor, now 16. “That’s when I was like, ‘Yeah, that’s gonna be me.’”

Connor’s 12-year-old sister Elliott does his black-and-white face makeup and plays The Little Pale Girl from “Terrifier 2.” She attended the dungeons in a wagon while Connor worked until she was old enough to volunteer herself.

The siblings love watching horror movies and collecting memorabilia. Connor treasures his poster of “House of 1000 Corpses” signed by almost everyone in the movie. Elliott loves her autographed pictures with David Arquette of “Scream” fame and Christina Ricci, an iconic Wednesday Addams long before Jenna Ortega entered the scene.

Their mom, Christina Mosmiller, said her kids’ obsession probably started with “Scooby-Doo” and definitely comes from her side of the family.

“I actually think it’s very fun and it reminds me a lot of the relationship that I had with my brother growing up,” Mosmiller said.

A Michael Myers mini me

Rounding the corner in an unfamiliar Anne Arundel County neighborhood, I was afraid I’d have trouble finding Rowan Waterbury’s house.

I shouldn’t have worried. Because sitting on his front steps, the 8-year-old slasher super fan was impossible to miss in his Michael Myers jumpsuit and deadpan mask, complete with a fake bloody knife.

Never breaking character, Rowan used that knife to jut at some of his favorite horror-themed collectibles meticulously displayed in the backyard. He had Myers and Pennywise Funko Pops (me too, kid), liquid-filled keychains encasing Beetlejuice and a Gremlin, and two adorable (to me, at least) Labubus cosplaying as the Ghostface from “Scream” and Jason from “Friday the 13th.”

The third grader has only seen bits and pieces of the “Halloween” franchise. But he insists that Myers, his favorite horror character, isn’t scary at all.

“I can easily outrun him,” Rowan said matter-of-factly. “He’s slow.”

Rowan’s family indulges his out-of-the-box interests. He has hung out with Myers at the Haunted House Restaurant in Cleveland and on a themed photoshoot. His grandmother bought him the tiny costumes for his Labubus. His most recent party was themed “Have a killer birthday.”

Getting into character and sneaking up on people is what brings Rowan joy as a natural entertainer, said his mom, Shannon Waterbury. He just likes making people happy.

“If there’s something they feel passionate about, whatever that may be, and it’s not harming anyone,” Waterbury said, “and it’s safe to like it and be a part of it, why not?”

About the Education Hub

This reporting is part of The Banner’s Education Hub, community-funded journalism that provides parents with resources they need to make decisions about how their children learn. Read more.