I went through a period in my early teen years where I could watch scary movies over and over again and be perfectly fine. In Jr High, the last day of school in our drama class, our teacher did a movie trivia game and in the final round, we got to pick the movie we thought we knew the best. I buried my competition with my knowledge of Scream.
But for some reason, the older I got the more afraid I was of horror movies. But a specific brand of horror movies. Every Halloween Matt and I have a Saw movie marathon and then we go to the theatre and watch the new one that came out that week. I'm fine with it. What I'm NOT fine with are the movies about spirits, demons and dead things coming back to life (and not in the Dawn of the Dead variety). I'm also terrified of dead Asians thanks to movies like The Grudge.
But, against my better judgment I still watch the stupid things anytime Matt puts one on. He goads me into it.
A few months ago after I went to bed, Matt decided to stay up and watch Paranormal Activity.
The following morning I was met by pleadings to watch the movie with him. He insisted that it was like The Ring, and that only after he showed someone else could the terror leave his own mind. He even agreed to let me rub it in his face for a whole year if I did. Despite warnings from my friends on Facebook, I watched it with him in the bright and sunny afternoon.
I sat in the recliner and Matt took the couch because we have a rule that we can't sit together while watching scary movies. This rule came about after watching What Lies Beneath when we were sixteen and after getting scared, I accidentally stabbed Matt in the head with one of the metal butterfly clips I had in my hair.
Me: This is stupid. I can't believe you were afraid of this.
Matt: I watched it in the dark, on the computer 5 inches away from my face.
I was victorious. I watched a scary movie and came out untouched while it was Matt who was left scared.
So the other night I went to bed early and made it through my usual before bed routine. I undressed, brushed my hair, turned out the light and flicked on my cell phone to guide my to my side of the bed. As I was walking I was reminded of that movie. I was also reminded that my closet door was open behind me and that I hadn't looked under my bed in quite some time.
Despite all my natural instincts that tell me there's nothing going to jump out and grab me, I thought, "Well the bed is safe, so even if there's no monsters in my room, the faster I get in bed, the better off I'll be." And so I jumped.
Mid air I thought: "Success! Eat this monsters/demons/dead Asians and evil creatures!"
And then I landed.
CRACK. CRACK. CRACK!
And I couldn't move.
I immediately called Matt from the other room begging for help and pain killers asap. Explaining the situation was not helping.
Matt: What happened?
Me: I jumped into bed and I think I cracked my ribs. Now I can't move.
Matt: Why did you jump into bed.
Me: Let's leave that conversation for later.
Matt: No, why did you jump into bed?
Me: *sigh* Because the room looked like Paranormal Activity and the bed is safe. So I had to get there fast.
Matt: The bed is NOT safe in Paranormal Activity. The girl actually gets attacked while she's in the bed.
Me: Shut up and help me.
Several fractured ribs later I'm beginning to wonder if I should just stop watching scary movies regardless of what anyone else says. That or get a lamp on my side of the bed.
I have not gotten an X-ray yet, but I assume it'll look something like this:
But with broken ribs.