I like scary movies. Not the senseless killing movies, but pretty much everything else - from old school campy ones to current cheesy movies. I hate zombies so much I love them. I totally dig apocalyptic stuff, other realm things, and ghosts.
So, then why does The Exorcist scare me so much?
Cut back to when I was about twelve or so - maybe a little older, but probably not much. The movie was on television and I was taunted into watching it by my older brothers. I had to prove to them that I was as tough as they were, so I stayed up to watch with them. Through my fingers because, and I'm not ashamed to admit this, I was kind of sheltered. I'd had very few experiences with scary stuff that wasn't real life scary (like the time someone followed me at o'dark-thirty while I was on my paper route). Seriously, I was twelve or so. It was the late seventies/early eighties. The gut full of bad things and foulness we live with today didn't exist back then. Okay, so it existed, but it wasn't talked about so much.
Anyway. To be honest, I don't remember a lot of the movie. I do remember her face and the sound of her possessed voice (things I still can't bear to look at or hear). I remember the pea soup scene, though I still don't understand why the mother would throw a party when her daughter's all possessed and stuff. Maybe I missed something there. I don't remember how it ended.
What I do remember is flying off the couch the second it was over so I could get the bathroom first (one bathroom, seven people - being first was important). When I emerged, the living room was dark and I assumed my brothers had gone to bed. I shut off my light, crawled between my sheets, and closed my eyes while my head was still spinning from the horrors of what I'd watched. I was keyed up and nervous. Then...I heard something in my closet.
I brushed it off, or at least tried to, as I lay there in the dark watching the closet. Had I closed the doors? I thought they'd been open, but couldn't be sure. I pulled the blankets up and stared into the darkness. The doors moved, a scratching sound coming from the other side. We didn't have a dog. Or a cat. Something was in my freaking closet. The door moved again, a guttural moaning sound striking fear into my heart. Then a hand emerged, followed by hysterical laughter.
Those jerks hid in my closet. They thought they were the funniest boys on the face of the earth. I screamed and one of my parents bolted out of their room and yelled at the boys to go to bed and quit bothering me.
So, that's why I can't watch the movie to this day. Maybe it doesn't make much sense to you. Heck, I'm not sure it makes much sense to me. But there you have it...