What Creeps In

What Creeps In

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'Tis the season of Halloween, where frights are welcomed and even encouraged.

Yesterday, I ventured to the town of Hickory, North Carolina, to attend an event I have looked forward to for many months now: Lake Hickory Haunts. The attraction consisted of thirteen haunted houses, including various sets of twisting underground caves, demented circus clowns, inflamed pirated-theme bars, and more! The set was extremely detailed and well done. "Who went with you?" you may ask. Well, no one. I went solo.

I did receive quite a few "Are you alone?"s and "Are you okay?"s from the wonderful staff of the Haunt to which I replied with a resounding, "Yes! I love scary!" I am sure many thought I was insane to go by myself to such a treacherous environment as a place with nothing but jump scares intended to make you pee your pants. I am happy to report my pants stayed relatively dry–it was a misty evening.

From time to time in my life, I am thrown a concerned stare or asked why I like all things scary. I am someone who reads horror/thriller books with a ravenous appetite. I can watch scary movies by myself, alone, in the complete dark, and go to bed after without needing to keep a light on while I slumber. Hell, I can even walk through a haunted house attraction, giggling to myself when the animatronics and scare actors make me jump.

Why? Why? Why?

I have put a lot of thought and self-reflection into my answer.

First, I will start with a story, a very recent one which occurred right before my time spent at Lake Hickory Haunts yesterday evening.

Planning to stay overnight, fearing it'd be too late and dangerous to drive back home after the Haunt, I booked an Airbnb. Nothing crazy, right? Well...

After sitting in my reserved room, I heard the Airbnb's house door open. With the understanding I'd be staying in the space alone, concluded after scouring the listing multiple times before booking, I was quite unnerved. What further caused my stomach to drop were three voices, all male, which began to echo throughout the space.

My bedroom door was locked–a habit instilled in me regardless of whether or not I am staying alone in an unfamiliar environment. I remained quiet, listening to the strangers' voices seep through the paper-thin walls and thinking to myself, If I can hear them clearly, then they can most definitely hear me. Remaining still, calm, collected, I observed two of the men leave through the front door. I watched through the street-facing window I discovered was only adorned with a sheer curtain in a one-level house.

Come one, come all! Human zoo! Party of one!

Then came the next terrifying thought. They can see me.

To be clear, I had no reason to believe the three men I heard were malevolent in any nature. However, the what ifs persisted.

What if they try to bust down the thin door ensuring my safety by a simple code and lock?

What if they try to grab me when I make my escape?

What if two of them are fine and dandy people but will turn a blind eye when the other two attack me?

That's right. I found out there was a surprise fourth character. Four men versus one woman.

The odds did not look great.

I confirmed with the host that other guests would be staying and decided, well, count me out.

The house grew quiet as the other slumber party members retreated from the main room. With my luggage in hand, I braved the short walk from my room to the front door while recording a video on my phone just in case. Those darn what ifs!

The third and fourth men sat on the back porch and watched as I calmly loaded up my vehicle. After a minute, I was on my way to the real horror attraction I consented to!

Moral of the story and a very brief answer to the "Why?" questioned above: There are far scarier things in this world than a movie on a screen, words on a page, and an attraction meant for fearful fun.

Don't get me wrong. I don't mean to downplay the artistry screening in the theaters or the power of the written word or the hard work that goes into building sets. Far from it. I love, admire, and respect these outlets of creativity. I'm a huge fan!

At the end of the day, I consent to the fright, the enlightenment, or the experience authors, film crews, and horror artisans curate.

Survival, hope, friendship, love, determination, and grit are common themes in horror and thriller. Scream queens, the final girls...they prove the light at the end of the tunnel exists, sometimes dim, but it exists. Evil can be defeated.

Horror blends with comedy and sheds light on real matters happening in our society. The things no one wants to think or to talk about are given a spotlight, a chance to drill fear into viewers and consumers who need a little extra push to face the tough topics they otherwise turn their backs on. Perhaps we all need a good shock once in a while to remind us how bad things can become in order to be thankful for what we have.

Again! Don't get me wrong, I beg. I don't think everyone should be frightened and traumatized in order to be grateful. If you already appreciate what you have and the people around you without watching a scary film, then great!

All I'm saying is that there is commentary in horror. Anyone seen Obsession? How about Get Out? The Purge?

I'm rambling. Get to the point, Gabriella!

Whether a person enjoys horror and its thrills or not, the world is a vast place, full of people with differing mindsets and intentions. Horror can be fun...until it's not. Until it looks you in the eyes and stirs up primal instincts. Until you enter a situation you did not consent to be in.

I'd like to think I've learned a few things from my extensive screen time of watching scary movies and from my insistent flipping of eerie pages.

Stay calm. The first one to panic dies.

Locate the escape. There's always a way out.

Don't take chances. A what if is always better staying that way rather than turning into a what happened.

Regardless of gender, remember to stay safe, to trust your gut, and to be to kind to the community surrounding you and beyond.

Happy Spooky Season!