Only a whisper behind my love of books is my love for horror movies. Horror and I have a long history. As an older millennial, I have been privileged to experience the shift from VHS to DVD rentals. To the rise of Blu-Ray. Netflix sending movies straight to your door. To streaming. Through all of that, it has always been horror for me. I grew up in a town that didn’t have Blockbuster or Hollywood Video. My horror came from two different mom-and-pop VHS video stores. Secondary to those two places, there was a point where Giant Eagle (a grocery store) had a small video rental section. Young Siemelle went straight to the horror section.

One day, I will detail my mom-and-pop VHS rental adventures. We need to back up a little. Back up to where it all began.

One of my sisters has told me numerous times that when I was a child (possibly right around age 4), she was having a sleepover with my other sisters and their friends, and I, being the person I am, weaseled my way into the room to watch the original 1984 A Nightmare on Elm Street with them. Apparently, I peed on her pillow. Whether from fear or sheer excitement, we’ll never know. Just, pee meet pillow. And so it began my obsession – and, let’s face it, Freddy was the 1980s it-guy – with horror.

Eventually, my love would extend outward into other horror legends, and there would be both age-appropriate and not-so-age-appropriate material. Freddy was the gateway. Obsessed. Obsessed, I say! True story, my sister used to scare the fuck out of me by using twist ties to tie butter knives to her fingers so she could chase me around, pretending to be possessed by Freddy. Looking back on the “never run with scissors” saying, I don’t know how no one was hurt. That was some dangerous shit right there! Children, never run with butter knives tied to your fingers. Now I’m not saying that my mental health is in tip-top shape, but, all things considered, I think I’m surprisingly well-adjusted given the butter knife scare.

Said sister – along with my other sister – was a bad influence on occasion. I may have told this story before, but once upon a time, you could call and “talk” to Freddy Krueger.

Did you know, gentle reader, that when your sisters teach you how to call that number and set you loose, the phone bill can skyrocket quickly? This was way before cell phones and data plans. This was when you could still see questionable commercials of women promising callers a good time (via phone, of course) and for a sexy fee. So, young Siemelle called Freddy a lot. Siemelle’s parents got the phone bill. At the time, my Aunt and cousins lived across the street. When my parents found out that someone was calling the dream demon, my sisters blamed my cousin for teaching me. For once, said cousin who was often a troublemaker, was completely innocent. But just that one time, trust me.

As I grew older and was exposed to other horror legends and movies of varying quality, and fell in love with other hobbies, I retained my love for Freddy Krueger. I grew to appreciate the person behind the makeup – Robert Englund. A few years ago, I went to Spooky Empire, and Robert Englund was there, but there was no way I could get close to him. His line was like a two-hour wait, and it was getting longer by the time I arrived. Everyone wanted to see him and Kiefer Sutherland, who was also there that weekend. I saw him from afar, though!

Every once in a while, I get the urge to binge-watch the series (though I will admit there are a few entries I prefer to skip). Strangely, watching the original film is like stepping back into a part of myself that I am very protective of. Horror is far more accepted than it once was, and technology has played a big part in helping horror lovers find each other. Even so, there are still people who don’t have an understanding of the genre and will judge you for that love.

But I still have nothing but love for the genre as a whole – film, television, books, etc. It’s how I face things. It’s how I process things. It gives me a safe space to see something that would probably reduce me to a pile of tears in a corner if I ever came across it for real. If you want to know what is happening culturally, politically, and socially in any given decade? Go watch the horror movies from that decade. It’s far more revealing and honest than most other genres.

What I wish, at this point in time, is to capture the old fear I used to have for horror. I used to be far easier to scare. Even though I may never capture that feeling again, it’s still the genre I turn to. I have had interesting experiences with horror films. There are films so bad that they are just awesome. There are some that I could not sit through, not because I was scared, but because I was so fuckin’ uncomfortable. Films that made me feel like I needed to shower and use an entire bottle of Native and a bar of Dove soap. I wanted to take the time and share how my love started.

To be continued…

Siemelle