There is a commercial for the movie “Paranormal Activity 3” that scares the ever-loving crap out of me. In it there are some little kids standing in front of a bathroom mirror chanting, “Bloody Mary.” They soon decide the chant didn’t work, but as they leave the bathroom you see an evil demon lady in the mirror. Or something like that, I have only watched it once, and ever since then every time the commercial comes on the screen I stick my fingers in my ears, close my eyes, and say “lalalalalalalalala!” until it is over.
The worst part? It’s always on at night! And one entire wall of my bedroom is mirrors! I can’t sleep at night.
I actually used to play this stupid Bloody Mary game when I was a kid. I remember being at a sleepover and someone suggested we try to summon her (you said “Bloody Mary” three times in a dark bathroom while spinning around with your eyes closed; after the third spin she was supposed to appear in the mirror). One of the other girls and I decided it would be hilarious to throw red nail polish on the mirror before everyone opened their eyes. You know…LIKE IT WAS BLOOD. The other girls screamed so loudly I can’t believe I have any hearing left. Two girls were so scared they called their moms to pick them up.
What the HELL were we thinking? I mean…um, it’s obviously one of those urban legends, but what did we think was going to happen? We were trying to conjure a knife-wielding ghost. Did we think it was going to be nice if it actually showed up?
I was telling Mike the story and he said, “I can’t believe you did that, you’re such a scaredy cat!” And I am…now. But I wasn’t always. When I was younger, I read horror books constantly. I did the Ouija board thing at other sleepovers. I loved telling ghost stories. Mike is constantly surprised by the scary movies I’ve seen. Now? No scary ANYTHING, ESPECIALLY at night. If Mike wants to watch a horror film, he has to watch it when I’m not around, or go to the theater by himself. I never want to hear a scary story because inevitably, I will remember it at 1am when I’m trying to fall asleep.
And yet. Mike thinks it’s hilarious to tell me scary stories. Earlier, he started to tell me all the things that Bloody Mary allegedly does to the people that summon her until I started screaming so loud he thought I’d wake up Annabel. Then he started to tell me about the haunted Toys R Us that was near where he grew up. Again, I started screaming. He just sits there, cackling.
Bloody Mary was probably a pissed off wife whose husband wouldn’t stop teasing her.