What Scared Me as a Child...

DISCLAIMER: The following statements recorded in this article are of a less than preferable...vernacular-nature. Reader discretion is advised, but not prohibited. Enjoy.

I was a scary, timid child. Walking down the Horror Movie aisle in the video stores would have me damn near puddling on the floor. Swimming lessons...you could write that off. The clear water and being able to see directly to the bottom of this seemingly endless blue abyss of watery-terror was more than enough to have me seize on the floor. For the life of me, I could not understand why my mother continually brought me back to this place where kids are crying and splashing...pleading (if you will) for their moms and dads to get them out of the water; yet she would still usher me on in (in a total motherly way of course, nevertheless...I digress). Needless to say, swimming lessons were a hell that I never cared to travel with Dante to. 

But the very first real scare that I can recall as a kid (as if those weren't enough, yea?), was this one documentary/horror film called, Terror in the Aisles.

   For whatever reason; this movie petrified my shit. It was a 1984 documentary that's sole purpose was to fancy the viewer's fascination with horror. If anyone has seen this once "hard to find" movie of yesteryear; search no further, as it is now available on the Blu Ray edition of Halloween II. If anyone wants to be a doll and buy me a copy out of the kindness of their heart; that would be fucking awesome. If not, ah well, no skin off my balls. You see, these days we get watered down pieces of penguin shit with clip-shows like, 100 Scariest Moments...really? 100 SCARIEST Moments? The scariest moment about those shows is that the networks allow some of those comics that aren't even comical, try and have something semi-sarcastic-funny to say before each clip airs. I'm sorry, but I'm watching this special on scary clips, not some dry-humored jackoffs that can't hold a match light to some of these flicks.  

Now, this particular film would not even be considered terrifying this day, but for some reason it scared and warped my little, fragile mind. It was late one night and my parents had gone to bed. I had gotten up to get a drink of milk or something from the kitchen, then I decided to sit in the living room and watch a little television. Keep in mind, I was probably 4 or 5 at the time. So as I'm flipping through the channels, I land on either Cinemax or HBO, and I just freeze at the sight of (what I now know to be Michael Myers of the Halloween franchise) this freaky-ass looking boogeyman-dude, staring blankly at the screen (which I felt like he was looking at me) accompanied by that simple piano-riff that John Carpenter came up with, which is now synonymous with the Halloween holiday itself...and that scared me stiff! I sat there frozen in terror while viewing clips like Damien (the Omen franchise) watching as his Nanny dropped from a ledge and hung herself (fucking weird to see at that age...speaking of me, not Damien. He's the son of Satan, so I'm sure he's felt much more evil-ass feelings than that.), and the scene from The Thing, where that poor German Shepherd transforms into that grotesque spider-thing sprouting tentacle-like legs, and several other semi-scream worthy clips ranging from Alfred Hitchcock Presents..., the iconic 1970's classic Jaws, Scanners, Friday the 13th: Part 2, and a host of others. Again, totally not something that people would be peeking through their fingers for this day and age, but back then...to a 4 year old...the shit was terrifying. I do believe that this film was an actual turning point for me and my fascination with horror.

Anyway, BACK to the story; I was sitting up on the couch for what seemed an eternity of not being able to move from my spot. Luckily, I didn't pee-myself, but after an hour or so seated alone, late at night, plastered to the television screen, sans parental supervision; my face was riddled with salty tears surrying down my thin little cheeks. I must have made a whimper or something, because my mother came out of the master bedroom, noticed me and was like, "Brandon? What are you doing? What are you wathcing?!" she turned off the television, picked me up and brought me back upstairs to my bedroom. I don't remember much more after that, but I do know that she spanked me...I think. Ah well, I probably deserved it. Shouldn't have been up that late watching "trash" anyway...