People who enjoy watching horror films do so for a variety of reasons. They love being scared; immersed into a world for two hours where nothing matters. Nothing, that is, other than what is happening in that moment while screaming and running through the woods, watching a killer in a mask come from behind the door and scare someone or more gruesome — hanging someone by a tree like in the movie “Scream.” In that moment when watching the movie, the only questions people are thinking of are; “who is behind that door?” “Where is that sound is coming from?” Or perhaps, “Where did this corpse hanging from the tree come from?” A racing mind filled with scary thoughts is one reason why I never watch horror films. In hard-core horror films nothing is sacred when it comes to violence and it scares me too much!
I have never been one who liked horror films; I find them uncomfortable and I don’t like being scared. I want my world to stay happy with cupcakes and pink bubbles. It just makes me want to vomit when horrible gory things happen. For example when I went to see the movie “Texas Chainsaw Massacre” I had to get up and leave for ten minutes during the movie. I was sweaty, panting, and the thought of someone using a butcher knife to kill someone I found extremely disturbing. When I watch some of the things that people are doing on camera it kind of shakes me. I am horrified to think someone actually sat down and thought up this stuff to write in the screen play. Are you joking? How disturbed must a person be who actually writes out such grotesque things in the script? I would never think of doing such horrible things to people that I see in horror films. When I see someone getting slashed up, and blood and guts are oozing out it makes me want to throw up.
During “Chainsaw” I seriously had to get up, walk out of the theatre and go to the bathroom to just breathe. When I see all of this blood, and slashing of bodies it just sends me into convulsions. My mind goes crazy thinking how horrible this is to watch and I get over heated. On the slight chance I am even willing to watch a horror movie I have to watch with someone. I refuse to watch something scary alone I just will not do it. If I am not with someone my mind would race, fixating on nothing but horrible thoughts. I would be thinking of how someone will sneak through my bathroom window and come into the apartment and slash and chop me up into a million pieces.
My friend in middle school, Zach, used to live in a very big, three story house with a large wrap around porch in the back that extended the whole house length. Behind the house were woods with neighbors only on the both sides of the house. The whole back side of the house, on the same side as the porch, had nothing but huge windows and sliding glass doors. The windows extended from the living room, through the kitchen into the dining room. There were sliding glass doors in the living room and in the dining room as well. It was a perfect setting for a silent killer to watch, stalk, and kill a victim.
Zach had six brothers and a sister that lived with him. When he and I, and most likely another sibling, were hanging out watching scary movies I would always be thinking of how one of those brothers did not lock the door. I would go in OCD mode and run around the house making sure the doors were locked. I just knew with all of those siblings, they would scamper around playing hide-and-go-seek in the house, running around the porches, and I just knew someone forgot to lock a door behind them and the boogie man would find his way in.
Even downstairs, they would hide in the basements gym, bedrooms, TV or storage area. So I was certain as I was going to sleep, having just finished watching the scariest movie, that the basement bedroom with the sliding glass door was left unlocked for the serial killer to easily slide it wide open, take a nap and be well rested to come upstairs and gut one of us like a fish. I would again go into my OCD mode and make Zach go with me to check the doors and just for the heck of it, lock the door to going into the basement. The lock was set so you had to lock it from the inside in the main hallway in the house. Meaning the killer couldn’t just come into the house from the basement since it was locked. Now, the horror film reality is that he could just quietly pick the lock, and ever so quietly sneak upstairs and murder one of us anyhow. Even with seven brothers and one sister everyone could sleep through anything. They could take a nap with all the other siblings running through the house screaming at the top of their lungs and a tornado blazing through the backyard. I have seen it with my own eyes so I knew that if someone is being murdered in the next room they wouldn’t have a clue and would just sleep right on through it.
Horror films often gross huge profits and supply us with multiple sequels; obviously, there are plenty of people in the world who seem to really like horror movies and like being scared, thinking there is nothing better than a Saturday night sitting with a bunch of friends ordering pizza watching a scary movie. I, on the other hand would rather watch a comedy or “My Little Pony” than watch someone get slashed up. Again, cupcakes and rainbows and I am all good. But just in case, I will double check to make sure the doors are locked tonight.