I wrote this without realizing you said “youth” so I’m embarrassed to admit this was very much when I was an adult.
Prerequisite: I am a giant baby. I hate scary movies. Always have. And my definition of scary is broad. I HATED the queen of hearts in the Disney Alice in Wonderland when I was little, for instance. She scared me to death and she was so so so mean.
(So were those flowers while we’re on the subject. And that caterpillar. Man I hated that movie.)
Also my parents had zero sense about movies. They took me to jaws when I was four, which scarred me permanently. And then poltergeist when I was eight which basically ruined any hope of recovery.
Or a normal life.
So for most of my life I refused to watch scary movies.
Through high school and right into adulthood.
But one day a few years ago I thought, you know, this is silly. I’m a big boy now. These movies are silly and fake and I have powerful rational control over my emotions.
So one day I watched jaws. I was shocked how un-scary it was. Bleh. Stupid fake shark.
(And that scene near the end when the shark is like eating the boat and the guy gets chewed up — in my four-year-old recollection it was so much bigger and more violent and more disgusting than it really was. Watching it again kind of healed me of a latent vivid horrifying image.)
I watched a few other kind of scary movies. I still don’t do actual horror and have no interest…
Anyway….now to my story.
Once when my wife and kids were away on a trip I decided to face the ultimate crapped-my-pants-as-a-kid test and watch Poltergeist.
This movie loomed large in my psyche.
I remember my piano teacher came over for dinner when I was little and he told my parents how terrifying this movie was. I distinctly thought “I’m NEVER going to that!” Two days later there we were in line to see it. I hate my parents. Digression! Back to my story…
I was maybe three quarters of the way through…
Alone…
In my dark and empty house…
When I heard a noise. Like a crash maybe. Broken glass? Someone dropping something?
Too close to be a neighbor.
But nobody was home.
And too real to be my overactive imagination.
My lizard brain got to work and one thing lead to another and I was kind of freaked out.
What made that noise?
WHO made that noise?!
I turned on every light in the house.
I carried my giant maglight flashlight like a weapon.
I searched from room to room.
But there was nothing.
I was so confused. The noise was absolutely real. Something had crashed, broken, shattered, somewhere.
I fully expected to find a picture that fell from the wall or a vase that somehow miraculously tipped over. Finding this would of course put my mind at ease.
But nothing at all.
I had to watch funny clips on YouTube to get my over-active imagination under control.
Eventually I went to bed, still confused and honestly a little jittery.
The next morning everything seemed much less scary but still…
WHAT WAS THE NOISE?
Eventually I left the house and found a mess on the front porch.
A wrought iron wall hanging that held ceramic pots of plants had somehow worked itself loose and fallen from the exterior wall, crashing the big pots on the front porch.
Huh.
Had to happen while I was watching poltergeist?
That seemed like the best time?
That moment and not any other in the ten years we’ve lived here?
I hate you universe.
No more scary movies for me.
👻