It's Coming from INSIDE THE HOUSE!!!

I was once forced to watch The Ring, practically at gunpoint. Well. Except there wasn't a gun, and my parents said, "It's your sister's birthday, so we'll see the movie SHE wants to see."

One reason I don't watch scary movies is that I will often re-enact them in my head, with me as the victim. After watching that horrible movie, I had to go back to my house, where I live BY MYSELF, and reconcile myself to not answering phones or looking in the corners of my closet. [Note: I would post YouTube clips here, to demonstrate exactly WHY I've made those life decisions, except then I would have to watch them myself, and that would be five years of psychiatric help RIGHT out the window.]

I also don't like ghost stories or urban legends. I have a hard time believing that I'm not going to be targeted by a particularly vicious spirit; also, I do NOT like driving through the woods at night, because I firmly believe that I could be attacked by an asylum escapee who has A HOOK FOR A HAND.

So last week, I was sitting downstairs, reading a book, enjoying the summer day and basking in the slightly higher thermostat setting that I've adopted in order to save money, when I got a text message from an unidentified caller:

it is hot in here! does the air work or what?

I bolted straight up. My heart started to beat, loud and fast. I think I passed out for a minute.

When I came to, I was clutching my phone with white-knuckled fingers and staring at the ceiling, listening with bat ears for any sounds of movement. I began a mental search of the first floor, trying to come up with something that I could use as a weapon. Nothing. I took a moment to be disgusted with myself, for being so unprepared, and got right back to being pee-in-my-pants scared.

Now, I'm not a typical movie heroine, in that I refuse to investigate any strange noises, anything out of the ordinary, any moving shadows. I adopt the attitude of I DON'T WANT TO KNOW. I tend to just curl up into a ball and try to ignore the whole thing.

I walked through the upstairs in my mind, and I knew right away the most logical place for a killer to hide. He'd be in the shower. See, I recently--after the umpteenth time I cleaned the creases in the shower curtain of mold--started closing the curtain after my showers (in order to abort the mold process in the first place). And EVERY SINGLE TIME I go in the bathroom, I am always positive that there's something behind that curtain.

I determinedly did NOT go upstairs and fling back the curtain. Instead, shaking, I called my dad.

"What are you doing?" I asked calmly.

And just as I was about to demand that he get to my house straightaway before I was heinously murdered, I got another text.

It was my sister, complaining about the heat in the movie theater. For some reason, my phone didn't show her as the original caller/texter.

"Um, never mind," I said to my dad.

And I lay back on the couch, picked up my book, and happily resumed my reading.


Shannon said...

That really WAS funny! To me, of course.

I'm surprised that you didn't have any knitting needles next to you to use as a deadly weapon.

Weird that my name didn't show up.

Anonymous said...

EEEK!!! I was reading with my heart starting to race expecting a truly scary ending..
That was hilarious!!!
Yes i cannot watch scary movies or I dream about them and scare my hubby by shrieking in the night..lololol!


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