I spent the better part of last week scared of my own shadow. I’m a wimp, but this was over the top.
When I was younger, in middle and high school, I loved scary movies and shows. My friend Ashley and I watched every horror movie we could. The gorier the better. They never seemed to stick with me, and I wasn’t scared of the dark. The same friend and I loved to read scary books, too. We’d go straight to the True Crime section at Waldenbooks.
I actually got a little worried about The Boy, being in ninth grade and wanting to read and watch only scary things. He read Harry Potter in second grade. He read Stephen King’s “It” in eighth. I wondered if I was encouraging axe murder. What had I done? Truth moment. He was reading and watching the exact things I’d read at his age.
Given my history of crime and murder, you’d think I’d be tough. Not the case. I’m scared of the dark. I’ll turn off the lights and run to bed. I have to outrun the killer. I’d never sleep with feet outside of the covers. No way.
However, I’ve gotten gutsy over the past couple of years. “American Horror Story,” while scary, is one of my favorite shows. If you haven’t seen it, you should.
I might be giving myself too much credit. This brings me to last week. I watched “The Haunting of Hill House” in its entirety. It looked intriguing, and everyone was talking about what a great show it is. I couldn’t resist.
Things got tense around episode six, and it was 10:30 at night. The Man was headed to bed. I wanted to finish the episode and see what happened, but I knew better. If I didn’t get up right then, while I had another adult to escort me through the dark, scary hallway in our house, I’d never get up. I’d be too scared. To bed I went.
I picked right back up the next day, wasting much of my day finishing the show. Don’t think I didn’t lock the bathroom door when I showered. I know, I know. Ghosts can unlock doors. I was just hoping I’d hear the lock click before meeting my demise.
If you’ve watched the show, you know about Bent Neck Lady. If you haven’t, just know this: she’s scary. At another friend’s house this weekend, I was sleeping on her couch after attending her daughter’s first birthday party. Adorable balloons still hung around the room. Those adorable balloons became Bent Neck Lady in the dark, when anything can become everything.
Yeah, I’m a wimp. Maybe I shouldn’t have watched the show. I did, though, and the damage is done. I’m still scared of my own shadow, but I’m also terrified of balloons, locked doors and other everyday items. I’ve learned that doors are locked for a reason, and just because a room is quiet, doesn’t mean you’re alone. Carrying a knife won’t ward off ghosts, but they might be under your bed after all. Keep feet under the covers, and deflate all balloons before going to bed.