In a recent post I mentioned that I hate watching scary movies. Hate them! But, on the other hand, I enjoy watching paranormal programs such as Ghost Hunters and the like. And I spend a reasonable amount of time watching clips on YouTube. Obviously, the subject interests me.
A year or so ago my wife was away playing pinochle with her friends, leaving me alone at home. Because she has no interest in these paranormal programs, I seldom watch them while she’s home. Hence, the reason I look up past episodes on YouTube. Anyway, I clicked over to Netflixs, thinking I’d watch a movie. It was then I saw it. Some program called Paranormal. Thinking it to be a documentary of some kind, I clicked on it.
When first watching it looked like a documentary. The premise of the show seemed to be about this couple who lived in a house where strange events were happening, and he made the decision to document their lives in the home. He packed the camcorder around during the day, and set it up facing their bed while they slept. The whole program was viewed from the camcorder’s viewpoint. All fine and good. Looked interesting.
Then crap began happening. In the beginning it seemed to be right up my alley. While they slept there would be sounds, objects subtly moving, and the door slowly opening and closing. My kind of show. Then slowly but surely things seemed to get more serious. While the camcorder rolled at night, she would get out of bed and stare at her sleeping partner. Okay, I’m beginning to get my “scary movie” creepy feeling, but I’m hanging in there.
But because the happenings become more and more serious, and she’s getting these strange feelings and thoughts, she demands that he quit filming, thinking that might be what’s provoking whatever is in the house. But he continues filming anyway. Okay, now I’m looking for my blanky…I mean blanket. While up, I also believed it to be an excellent opportunity to mix myself a stiff drink.
Now the woman is getting up in the middle of the night and creeping around the bedroom, along with approaching the camera and staring at the lens with an animalistic look to her eyes. Okay, maybe I don’t need to be sitting this close to the television. I get up and move to the kitchen area. The purpose for that? I have a good answer. My blanket and fortified Coca Cola were no longer doing their job, that’s why. I wanted to reach for the remote and turn it off, but somehow I couldn’t. I had to see what was going to happen next. And yet I kept mumbling, “This is not going to be good. This is not going to be good.” Okay, now I’m talking to myself. Like I said, not good.
By the last half hour of the show I finally come to the realization that this isn’t a documentary, but a movie, and a movie that’s scarier than hell! Now I’m peaking around the door way on the opposite side of the kitchen that leads to our dining room. I couldn’t get any further from the television unless I went outside with a pair of binoculars and watched through the window. And that would have been an option if it wasn’t dark out. Finally in the end, she rises from the bed, stares evilly at her sleeping partner, then disappears out the bedroom door and into the darkness. All’s quiet for several minutes. In the mean time I’m deciding what’s the best evacuation route out of my skin. He awakes, looks around, then also disappears through the doorway, obviously to look for his wife. By now I’ve poured my second drink and drained half of it, and am peaking around the corner with just one eye. Now I know this is not going to be good!
It’s all quiet for a what seemed forever. Then suddenly a guttural scream comes out of the darkness. Instantly the hairs on my head jump to full attention, beginning far below the follicle line, not to mention the scattered hairs on other parts of my anatomy. Then quiet returns, the camcorder continuing to view the empty bedroom and open door to darkness. Now I’m looking around the corner with a half eyeball. And then totally without warning, his body flies out of the darkness straight at the camcorder and crashes against it, throwing its view to the floor and his still body. Immediately I now know I wasn’t far enough away from the television. Something paranormal crept up and shit in my pants! And to make certain this ghostly phenomena was complete, here she comes, slinking into the bedroom on all fours like an animal and begins sniffing the body. Mercifully, that was the movie’s end, leaving me alone and in desperate need of physiological counselling.
“What are you doing still up,” my wife asked as she walked in. “And why is every light in the house on?”
“Oh,” I replied with a nervous glance, “I don’t know how that happened. Stupid me!”
Since then there have been three or four sequels to this movie, which I’m quite sure everyone but me knew about. The hell with the sequels. I just wish I had been aware there was an original before watching it, not to mention, watching it alone!