“I’ll hold the popcorn.” I was sitting in the middle, so it just made sense. Susan and Cathy had their own sodas, and I could reach both, although Susan’s was diet.
When the curtain opened, we quietly debated whether we’d want to see the movies being previewed. Then the lights dimmed.
It wasn’t billed as a scary movie, but my body didn’t know that. Every time a door opened into a dark space, and the character stepped toward the unknown, eerie music crescendo-ing, my feet came up to my seat, knees to my chest.
I wanted badly to look away or close my eyes, but instead they opened wider, glued to the screen and tied to whatever fate awaited the doomed character. None of us were eating the popcorn anymore, too scared to make a move.
When I screamed, my arms flew up to shield me from the evil that had appeared behind our poor ignorant character, “Behind you,” I yelled at the screen.
It was too late, both for the character and for the man behind me, now covered in popcorn.