It shouldn’t be surprising that Kelli’s two most terrifying moments from her childhood are moments that I remember well, and both scared the hell out of me, too.
The incident involving Poltergeist is almost too good to believe.
First, the reason why my parents felt that Poltergeist was a suitable Saturday night movie for children ages 6-10 is beyond me. But it was also not the first time that my parents’ ability to discern appropriate content for small children came into question.
Before the ripe old age of ten, I was also permitted to watch The Exorcist, The Omen, Invasion of the Body Snatchers, The Amityville Horror, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Jaws. Thankfully, I was never been as frightened by horror films as my siblings were, though The Exorcist admittedly scared the hell out of me.
Second, the fact that our dog just happened to fall asleep in our closet on the night we watched that particular film, and that it also happened to be the night that we left the light on in the closet seems too impossibly coincidental to believe. The whole damn movie is about ghosts in a closet and the light emerging from within. There was no better way to terrify us as young children than to have that closet door open seemingly by itself after we had gone to bed.
A living, breathing Tyrannosaurus Rex wouldn’t have been as frightening.
And as far as I can remember, it was the one and only time that our dog made his bed in our closet, and it was definitely the only time that he crept out of the closet in the middle of the night by pushing the door open.
I had many terrifying moments in my childhood, many more than Kelli ever experienced, but the image of that closet door slowly opening and the light spilling into our bedroom is one of the most terrifying moments of my life.
I also remember the issue regarding Kelli’s bedroom window well, though I remember it slightly differently. While I am sure that I tormented Kelli about the inherent dangers of her room in the event of a fire, I was actually just as frightened about the situation as my sister and had begged my parents on more than one occasion to install a rope ladder in case she ever needed to escape. I also remember telling Kelli many times before bed that if there was a fire and she could not get out her bedroom door, she must jump regardless of her fear. “Two broken legs is better than being dead,” I had told her many, many times.
I’m sure that none of this served to inspire confidence in my little sister, but it was all I could do to rest peacefully every night.
And it’s not like my warnings weren’t entirely unjustified.
When I was about twelve years old, our chimney caught fire, and after several motorists stopped to warn my parents of the danger (which they ignored), the fire department was finally called by a neighbor and I was awakened from sleep by a firefighter. Though the fire remain restricted to the chimney, it could have easily been a lot worse had our neighbor not seen the problem and called 911.
Being awakened from sleep by a firefighter also rates on my list of most terrifying moments from childhood.
I wonder what Kelli remembers from that night.
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