Dear reader, you know how most scary movies begin with some sunny-faced teenager who thinks it makes perfect sense to take a babysitting job at the house on the hill where all the phone lines have been cut? Or a group of kids who decide to celebrate spring break on an island where some sort of hit-and-run situation occurred the previous year? Or some girl who looks out the window and sees a fine kettle of weather brewing in the distance and decides this would be a perfect day for a bike ride?
And you watch as she gets ready to go and pauses to take one last picture of herself, blithely unaware of the madness which awaits and you are practically in a frenzy, screaming at the movie screen....DON'T DO IT!!!
But she does do it. And once she is out there, it grows dark very quickly and the hanging clouds and steady rain can denote only one thing: the Dementors are breeding. The girl begins to make low, keening sounds because it is finally beginning to dawn on her that this innocent bike ride has gone well past the point of no return.
There is freezing rain pouring down her legs and into her shoes and socks. The bike spits sand and water up her back. Her face is attacked by a thousand spear-like drops and she begins to shake uncontrollably. Still, and make no mistake about it, she is happier in this moment than a kid who guesses the correct number of jelly beans in an institutional-sized pickle jar.
When she gets home, she pulls off all her clothes and leaves them in a sopping heap on the garage floor. What if there is company inside? Too bad for them...she can only worry about one horror movie at a time.
She crawls into the shower and huddles there like Gollum, letting molten temperatures of water cascade over her numb and shivering body. When she gets out, the girl goes downstairs and curls up on the couch. She touches her face. It feels cold, like a corpse. No one is home. The house is quiet. It is too quiet. She is all alone...
Suddenly, a shadow passes over her feverish brow. She opens her eyes but is too terrified to scream. Edgar Allen Poe! What spectre hovers by the stairwell? What can it all possibly mean?!
Oh...well, I suppose not every scary movie has to be so predictable.
Dear reader, wishing you a thrilling weekend of the spookiest sort and an invitation to stop by on Monday for a fun and slightly different kind of giveaway...