Why horror?

A few weeks ago I was asked to share about our love for horror, and I answered with our origin story, of sorts.  Whether it was the first horror movie we watched or the first we can remember watching, Return of the Living Dead was the beginning of our decades long love for horror.  

My sister, Dalia, said she thought she could hear the faint moan of zombies coming for her down the alley next to our house and I dreamed of the “Tarman” and the half zombie lady screaming for my “Braaaaaains!”  We could hear and feel that terror from the words, “The pain!”  I believed the credits that it was based on actual events.  But that didn’t stop us from coming back for more.  It got better and more fun as we watched it again and again and we loved it all.  

So, why horror?  

There’s a comfort to be found in wrapping yourself up in the world of horror.  When I was a little girl, I needed the escape from reality, to suspend all belief and imagine a world of clumsy, slow chases and those flesh-eating zombies.  I was absolutely entertained.  I laughed, I screamed, and occasionally cried for some fictitious person on screen and it was soothing-the exhilarating feeling of being terrified. 

I still live for that excitement, those screams, the chill bumps, and the jump scares.  I love a movie that’s quantifiable in buckets of blood.  You can cheer on your favorite slasher and you can hate everyone or love everyone with no regrets.  And years later, I’m still amazed at what our imaginations can bring to life.  

I might not ever step foot down into a dark basement when the lights go out, but I’ll watch an innocent person investigate the strange noises with no working flashlight.  Please, let there be some hungry monster lurking down in the dark.  I’ll keep my fingers crossed for a ghostly presence to startle them and send them tumbling down the steps.  I haven’t seen enough possessed dolls in my lifetime so I’ll just keep coming back for more.