I was not allowed to watch horror movies as a kid, but I adored them.
Walking lazy circles around the perimeter of the playground while my best friend whispered, "seven daaaaaaays," recounting a version of The Ring that I can never return to.
Hugging my blanket at a sleepover as someone my size intoned, "have you checked the children yet?" How could watching When a Stranger Calls possibly compare to being literally BABYSAT while hearing about a serial killer terrorizing a babysitter?
The fumbled ending of, "and in blood! In her shower there's the dog and it's the dog's blood and it says 'did you know humans can lick just as good as dogs!' And the dog was DEAD!" It freaked me out as if I'd been in that bathroom.
As a young teenager I would read every Saw movie's wikipedia page, guilty and electrified by the rebellion that my fundamentalist christian teacher said risked letting demons into my bedroom to possess me in my sleep. Mrs.Kimbraugh, if you're out there, you made it ten times better.
Part of me wants to visit these stories the way they were meant to be told, but I don't think I ever will. I'll watch new horror, or stories I didn't hear back then, but when the 10th Saw movie came out, Wikipedia months later was my opening night.


















