[A piece I wrote for my Intro to Non-Fiction English class, see end of post for notes!]
I’m 7 years old.
I’m standing frozen in my kitchen, wide-eyed, with the television remote still in my hand. The screen in front of me dances with images of a bloody-mouthed man beating a police officer to death, leaning over and biting a portion of his face off.
My babysitter rushes into the room. She takes the remote from me, switches off the TV, and hugs me asking if I’m ok. I’m paralyzed with a fear and intrigue that would stay with me for the rest of my life.
The Silence of the Lambs won five out of the seven Oscars it was nominated for in 1992, including ‘Best Actor in Leading Role,’ awarded to Anthony Hopkins, who beat two policemen to death as Hannibal Lector in front of my 7 year old eyes.
More than often I use this bit of information when I have to remind friends and family that not only I find it a work of cinematic genius.
I guess that comes with the territory of being a horror movie fan.
I’m a junior in high school.
My so-called boyfriend says that
Hostel was a waste of an hour and a half; he asks why I like such pointless and idiotic movies.
Our relationship only lasts a few months after that. It ends with me dumping him after a large fight over the classic movie
Halloween. Or rather, it ends because I want to watch the film in peace and he wants to bring up all of our problems. But I tell everyone that it ends over that film, and everyone believes that I’m obsessive and weird enough to do something like that.
“Don’t you already own that movie?” My roommate freshman year of college asks as I open the packaging to the 2005 gore-fest that is
Hostel.
“I did,” I say. She stares at me while I explain that I had to buy a new one because I watched my previous DVD so many times it burned out.
Hostel never won any awards. It is harder for people to understand why I find this one so wonderful, when no academy recognizes it as a cinematic masterpiece, or when a friend risks seeing someone get their eye cut out if they accidentally glance at my laptop screen.
“I watch it when I’m sad,” I tell her. And when I’m happy. Or bored. Or just need background noise. I watch it a lot.
She doesn’t even pretend to understand.
My mother watches me cringe and whimper as the villain in the 1999 Japanese film
Audition uses a wire saw around her paralyzed husbands ankle and begins to remove his foot.
She makes a disgusted noise and averts her eyes from the television. As she leaves the room she asks me for what seems like the millionth time why I’m so obsessed with watching movies like these.
I shrug. “They make me uncomfortable,” I tell her.
She tilts her head in confusion.
“In a good way.” I add on.
She tells me she doesn’t understand, and I tell her its ok, I don’t really either. Its just the underlying fact is that these movies make me happy, and that’s why I can watch them from sunrise to sunset.
“So basically, you’re obsessed with horror movies?” The cute boy asks while we’re hanging out and getting to know one another.
“Yeah,” I say. “I find the stories easy to follow and blood spatter fun to watch, I could watch them for days. Are you a fan?”
He tells me he isn’t really, he finds them gross and boring. Plus he doesn’t like the adrenaline rush that comes with being scared. I say that part is my favorite part.
Well that’s a shame, I think,
he is really cute.
I think how the lack of interest in horror could make or break a relationship with me, and I silently wish that it wasn’t such a deal breaker.
“But I could always try to be more interested in them,” he offers, breaking my train of thoughts.
It is over a year later, and he is my boyfriend. He asks if I want to see
The Evil Dead remake with him in theaters, I say yes. This is better than a marriage proposal.
I smile at him; it’s nice to know that now more than just myself and the academy thinks that
The Silence of the Lambs is a cinematic masterpiece.
Notes on this writing:
Hey guys! I figured I'd share this piece with you!
It was my first assignment from a creative writing class that I took over the summer, the topic was: Write about an obsession, and what better to write about than my undying love for horror movies?
I don't really have much more to add to this, but I leave you with this question:
Are the floating skull dividers too much? I wanted to add dividers/a fun element to my blog, but I'm worried that it might look goofy or not fit with the theme. Let me know what you think! Leave comments below, and constructive criticism is always welcome! And I will see you guys in the next blog post!
"Be afraid, be very afraid."
♥ the 'real' Tatum Riley
