I know Jacy and I look like tough cookies, but looks sure can be deceiving. We are actually the two goosiest girls in the entire world. Honestly, I never used to be a goose at all. I have always had a passion for scary movies and Halloween. And I always loved to scare the shit out of Jacy any chance I got. I was one of those evil sisters who would see her in her room all alone and I'd pop into her room with a, "Boo!" She'd always scream bloody murder and then punch me and I'd always gloat around for a while. I knew I got her good if she punched me.
But two years ago, my perspective on all things scary changed when I saw "The Strangers." A lot of my friends say that this movie didn't scare them. But it made me believe in the endless possibilities of my murder. For instance, the house where the scary stuff happened was in the country. Seriously, why did these filmmakers find it okay to film in the middle of a perfectly content and underpopulated country? Did Michael Myers kill people in the country? Candy Man? Hell no. Oh, and then the freakiest part for me is when the killers freaking killed the killees at dawn. What murder is performed in THE MORNING?! No one wakes up and gets killed. No way. Murders always happen at about 1:00-2:00 a.m.
That summer I lived with two guy friends, so I was sure that I'd be okay once I got home to the safety of their big muscles (ha!). But they found that night to be a great night to not be home. So, I did what any sane and scared girl would do. I locked all the doors, closed all the blinds and slept with a baseball bat clutched in my hands.
Now, two years later, I'm still as scared as ever. For some reason, being home alone in the country never scared me growing up. Dad showed me where he kept his pistol and he showed me how to insert the cartridge and I was convinced I could shoot any intruder on site. But in the city I can't exactly carry my pistol around. Or maybe I can? I'm not sure. I'm in Texas. Do the rules really apply to Texans? I do know that they believe in that eye-for-an-eye awesomeness. But that really scares me because what if I kill my killer before he kills me? Then will I be sent to an electric chair?
Instead of having a pistol close at hand, I have nothing. I thought I had locks on my doors, but my roomie informed me that the gate to our backyard isn't ever locked. (Don't get any wise ideas to come rob me. A) I don't have anything worth robbing and B) You don't know where I live. So ha!) We live in a town with 39,000 people! I can see not locking doors in small-town, Nebraska, but with 39,000 people? Yeah, too many bad things can happen to people with unlocked doors in that big of a city. My roomie assures me everything is fine and that her dog will protect me. However, I've heard about the Urban Legend where the girl hears a "drip, drip" sound that sounds like a faucet in her bathroom and it was actually her dog's blood dripping into the bathtub. Then the killer comes out from behind the corner and kills her. I don't trust dogs any farther than I can throw them.
Although there have only been, like, three murders in my new town's history, I don't want to take chances and be the fourth. (Did I mention that two of those killings happened this past summer?) For some reason, I'm not scared of dying when my roommate's home. I think that she'll protect me. But the other night I was home alone and I was convinced it was my night to die. (This is the same night my friend, Maggie, sent me an email telling me about the dream she had where a sumo wrestler made his way into her bedroom. Evidently, it was a very lifelike dream, so she bolted out of bed and turned on the lights to check for sumo wrestlers. I didn't want any of that funny business going on in my bedroom.)
Since it was my night to get killed, I found it only fitting to have a nice supper. Shrimp it would be. After eating my shrimp, I caught up on my Showtime shows and put on my nicest PJs. After all, I needed to look semi-decent for when the hunky police officers found me. I also left my day's makeup on just in case. Just as I was settling into bed, I thought, "HEY, I can prevent my death. I'll show my killer! muahahaaa," so I went in search of a key to lock the back door. After nearly tearing the house apart, I came up with ziltch.
Nearly defeated, I just happened to glance down at my gym bag and see my lock and key for my gym locker. HOLYSHITAKERISOTTO! I could save my own life. So I took the padlock and found a way to lock up the latch on the backyard gate. The only way a killer was getting me is if he took an axe to the fence in the backyard. Which I hoped I would hear.
I went to the bathroom and washed the makeup off my face. Then, for safe measure, I pushed my other bed in front of my bedroom door to make sure I could hear my intruder before he tried to attack.
I'm seriously thinking about buying a pistol. Or maybe I'll settle for a lock on my bedroom door...