I don’t know what it is that makes people like scary movies.
Maybe it’s like the adrenaline rush you get from skydiving or riding roller coasters.
I call it, “getting the crap scared out of me.”
And I love getting the crap scared out of me with a good scary movie.
But not the bloody gory “slicer/dicer slasher” ones.
Or ones with monsters like Jason, Michael, or Freddie. They could never be real.
Or ones with vampires, werewolves, zombies, or mummies. They’re not real either.
But movies with ghosts, demons, and spirits?
They scare me.
Because I think they’re real.
And it’s all my parents fault.
“There are spirits all around you,” my mother used to say.
Yikes! I was eight when I first heard that one.
“I saw the ghosts of the dead rise up from the bloody battlefield,” my father once said.
Eeeek! My dad actually saw ghosts!
“Jesus cast out demons.” Both my mom and dad discussed one night at dinner.
Cripes! If demons were in the Bible, then they had to be real, right?
Fast forward to 1973 and . . .
Of course I had to see it.
It was about demons.
And I wanted the crap scared out of me.
Even though I knew Linda Blair puked up pea soup, and it was only
Hollywood special effects that made her head spin, I was scared.
And even though I had read the book and knew what was going to happen before it happened, I was scared.
And even though I knew it was my four-year-old daughter talking in her sleep, I was scared that if I went into her room, I’d see her head spin.
OK, I know that’s silly.
But I was a divorced mommy of twenty-four with two young daughters “living alone.”
Fast forward to 1999 and . . .
THE BLAIR WITCH PROJECT.
Went to see it. Wanted the crap scared out of me.
Wasn’t scary at all.
But if I had been? I at least I wasn't "living alone." I had a husband then.
Fast forward to 2009 and . . .
I’m going to see it tonight.
It’s about ghosts.
I’ve read the reviews. And I’ve read the hype.
And it sounds like it’s really scary.
I want to get the crap scared out of me.
But even if the movie isn't that scary . . .
I'll still be scared.
Because . . .
I do believe in ghosts.
And . . .
I’m “living alone” again.
P.S. I still won’t watch The Exorcist if it comes on TV. I’m still that scared. And just so I don’t sound like a big wuss, I found this little tidbit: