Wednesday, 20 February 2013

Why Horror: Nightmares...

"My parents think I'm pretty twisted... hell, most people think I'm pretty twisted."

My love of the horror genre far out dates my writing. It goes back a long way. So what started it all? Why do I read gore infested twisted fiction? Why do I have a collection of horror movies that I've scoured the world for?

Why do I have nightmares...?

Most people don't remember their dreams. I know I don't... mostly. My earliest memory of a dream is a nightmare. I can't tell you when it was, but it was pre- 10.

I was at my junior school, and being chased by a dog. I remember it so vividly because the dog - an Alsatian - caught me. It was in the cloakroom where we kept our coats. It chased me in there and it bit me. It actually bit my whole damned hand off at the wrist.

And then I woke up.

It scared the hell out of me.

I've always been wary of dogs, and this was a fairly reinforcing event.

Why did I have it? Who knows. I was too young to analyze. I expect I didn't want to go to school. I was wary of dogs, and maybe had watched Empire Strikes Back that night. But none of that matters. Now, I look back on the memory, and while it still fills me with a disturbed icky feeling, the real feeling is long gone. It disappeared with my youth, my innocence.

It was fear. Real fear. Terror.

It was a terror that only the brutal belief of actual danger, pain, and death, can cause.

It is my first memory of horror... and I still remember it to this day.

And nothing scares me like that anymore.

There are a couple of others I remember that were reminiscent of this.

In one I got shot.

They say you can't die in your dreams. I don't know if that's true or not. I don't think I have. I got shot in the head. The skin on my head folded up as the bullet impacted and traveled through.

And then I woke up.

It produces a sick feeling in the stomach. A dizziness... a nausea.

I don't know why, but I sort got addicted to it.

It became my drug. It was a punch of emotion, the spook, the scare, the jump, and then finally the giggle when I realize it's not real.

My brother says I'm desensitized to horror. Maybe that's why if I do have a nightmare these days I don't remember it. Maybe I don't even wake up. They're just dreams to me these days.

But it started me on a path...

...a long path.

No comments:

Post a Comment