I’m sort of a baby when it comes to scary things. It’s not that I’m a wimp in any way–I can handle watching scary movies or reading scary stories. The trouble starts later, once I’m alone with my imagination; that’s when things get carried away, and fast.
Which is why I’ve refrained from watching this show even though I’ve wanted to for years. I just knew if I watched it alone I’d be in trouble. Normally, if a scary something is something that is very unlikely to occur in real life, I’m okay with it. Discomfort while watching someone eaten by zombies? Sure. But worry that actual zombies are going to attack me? Not so much. (A little though. I am human, after all.)
So ostensibly, a show with a premise of tons of ghosts hanging out on the property to torment the current owners shouldn’t bother me too much. I don’t live in a house, and I wouldn’t be tied to it in any way if I did. If I saw a ghost who tried to hurt me, I’d get out of there immediately (unlike the owners of the house on American Horror Story, which is the main suspension of disbelief I’m trying to deal with here). Yet something about the frights in this show make me legitimately scared. Again, not because I think I’m going to end up living in a mansion with tortured souls–just because the show is well done, I guess.
But now that I finally have someone to watch it with, I’m going at it full force. I have 4 seasons to get through on Netflix, beginning with who knows how many hours to spend in terror wondering why anyone would ever move into a place called Murder House.