*ahem*
Like a good group of friends, we obviously do that thing that most people do when they watch a scary movie: point out each and every flaw that every character makes.
Don't go in that room you dingus!
I would've left 10 hours ago.
Just stab them in the head! Jugular--go for the jugular!
Of course, these flaws are what make scary movies scary. All that uncertainty of what is going to happen next because some bimbo got into a situation that usually leads to their demise or the demise of a lot of minorities. We get to have fun screaming and holding each other because of these flaws and then pretending like we're OK walking to our cars after the movie is over.
Not to mention the fact that every person in a scary movie is surprisingly bad at every physical task; kind of like infomercial people.
Oh no! I need to get into my car! *throws keys ten feet away*
I wonder where the light switch is... *falls down flight of stairs*
I think I'll make a sandwich. *stabs self in the eye*
...you get what I mean.
So this got me thinking about my life and how easy it would be to for my life to become a scary movie. I put on the rose colored glasses of death and stepped out the metaphorical front door.
Waking up in the morning and I would be quite the idiot to step on the floor around my bed since there is OBVIOUSLY a murderer hiding underneath there (or at least someone since that has happened before). I tell myself in my head to jump at least five feet and make a run for the bathroom, only to be stopped by the shower curtain.
If this were a scary movie, when I begin taking my shower, I'm definitely going to be wrapped up in that shower curtain after a psycho stabs me 1 or 9 times. Wait, what was that creaking? I should have known that there was some kind of ghost living inside my water heater that would eventually get sick of sitting quietly.
Surviving the shower, I build the suspense since absolutely nothing has happened yet. I make it to my classes on time and have a completely uneventful day unless you count the fact that I could have been drowned in a public bathroom, crushed by a bookshelf, or attacked by a flock of seagulls.
| "I really wish you would stop watching me pee." |
"Just stay in your house!" You might scream as I decide to take an evening stroll, the music changing to a more ominous tune as I put on my shoes. You jump as my cat suddenly runs across the screen and an orchestra of strings screeches while I fall onto the floor and give a small chuckle. You even tell yourself how stupid you're being thinking that anything is wrong; but then you remember the genre you're watching. Shit.
Will it be the butler, the ghost, the ominous monster under the bed, or the local psychopath that conveniently escaped from the insane asylum only days ago? You'll probably just pick all of the above--just to be safe.
I step out on the sidewalk and have to narrowly avoid a car that zooms by. "Damn lawbreaking hooligans..." I mutter under my breath as I continue my walk. NO. You know that I should stay inside and you always wonder why it isn't so obvious to me as well.
| "You guys seriously gotta stop changing the locks." |
I scream. You scream. We all scream.
Standing over me with a knife is a dark figure that we cannot see until they step into the light: My cat.
"But why!?" I yell to be heard over the obnoxiously loud screeching of the devilish orchestra
"BECAUSE YOLO!" He screams and the knife descends.
--and I wake up, in my bed in the middle of the night with a cold sweat dripping down my brow.
"WHAT?!" escapes your mouth (along with some expletives). At this point you're beyond angry and confused for this being a dream the whole time. There are just so many things you wanted to have happen and now you just don't know what to do. You then convince yourself you were never scared and you knew this was going to be awful from the beginning.
But the story continues...
I walk into the bathroom for a drink of water and open the medicine cabinet. But when I close the door again, my face turns into shock as the cat is standing behind me with the knife.
Cut to black.
You all slightly jump in your seats as it ends and you tell everyone how scared you aren't.
"Ugh, that was SO dumb! I can't believe you talked me into watching that." or "The original was way better, man."
Yet, when you walk to your car you can't help but keep one eye on the neighborhood cat the whole time. You're being silly, you tell yourself. But at the same time, you keep your car key ready to go in the lock, just in case.
