What Scares Us

“The horrifying events that took place in the Hoyt family’s vacation home at 1801 Clark Road on February 11, 2005, are still not entirely known” –Tagline From The Strangers.

The other day on TV I watched this film trailer from a upcoming movie called The Strangers. Then I went online to YouTube and watched it again. And again. And once more. There’s nothing remarkable about it or, seemingly, the film: A family gets attacked in their isolated cabin by a group of masked strangers. Nothing new here. Yet, later that night I found myself walking slower, with heavier breath, through the darkened hallway of my apartment. I was terrified, absolutely terrified, thinking of the narrator’s voice describing my own situation as I turned a corner waiting for someone to jump out at me. When I went to bed: same thing. I had to do a series of checks around the room before shutting my light.

Why was I so scared by this thing? What about it had hit me in a way that no other film trailer has done, perhaps ever? Nothing. The next morning I realized that I wasn’t at all scared of this film, which doesn’t even look that good. No, a crappy B-Movie hadn’t scared me.

For several weeks now, I’ve been struggling to find work, to find a place to live, to decide–with finality–how I want to spend the rest of my life, and to do all of this without having to cease being who I am. This can be pretty scary stuff, but not once, not once, have I told anyone (least of all myself) that, “Wow, this is terrifying sometimes”. Most of us never say things life that. We’ll get angry, we’ll yell, we may even cry, but to say “I’m scared” and mean it, and have it be based on meaningful things, puts us in a exposed position of weakness that is itself quite scary. Those who admit to being scared admit to not knowing everything because only the unknown is scary. But we can unashamedly get scared at a film that’s supposed to be scary even if, as in this case, the situation portrayed is so impossible and foreign to your own life that it offers no real threat.

I wonder though how many other things you and I have done this with, how many other ridiculous fears we’ve used to project our real problems? These days are nothing if not a time of fear. Think of all the things that force us to walk down hallways a bit slower: terrorism, cataclysmic disaster, economic catastrophe, sweeping epidemics, war, devils, demons, and the child molester hidden behind every window. Are these real? Maybe some of them are, but even still, do they warrant the attention and fear we give them? Does it, perhaps, belong somewhere else?

I guess what I’m asking is: Is this really what scares you?