Halfway (#Wattys2016)

French Fries Vs. Heart Attacks

Well, at least there's a cute baby.

That was me, trying to be optimistic and cheerful, while watching a horror movie, against my will.

Let me tell you something, I hate horror; I like romantic comedies. They're simple, they're fun, and they lack the element of suspense and surprise, plus they don't have dead people in them.

And cue the creepy wise old lady that's going to die soon.

That's when I felt something land on my head and freaked out while screaming a little. Only to find out that it was popcorn. A little higher were a group of boys, laughing at me. Giving them a glare they couldn't see because movie theatres were usually dark, I turned around and found out that the wise old lady just died. Her skull was broken in half.

But, that's okay; I didn't want to sleep tonight anyway.

A little later, the terrifying demonic thingy was in its natural form and was hanging from the ceiling waiting to catch the heroine.

No, don't. Leave! Who the fuck stays in an abandon fucking warehouse in the middle of the fucking forest with no fucking signal?!

Shit, the terrifying demonic thingy was ready to attack. Here it comes; here it comes.

I was bracing myself, because I knew it would jump on her and devour her soul, when something suddenly gripped my shoulders. I then proceeded to scream my lungs out while attempting to do the rain dance apparently, shouting "take her instead" and pointing at the person who forced to watch this abomination. I actually shocked myself: I could multitask.

Most of the audience didn't even glance my way. What if I was being murdered people?

The sad excuse of a human being was laughing like a drain. Oh yes, scaring the absolute hell out of people is just so amusing. Classic trick.

I wanted to grab his tiny head and bash him into the wall as many times as it takes to see his little brains on the floor, all the while grinning listening to his screams.

I didn't do it, of course, because I'd go to jail. And, believe it or not, the thought of being in prison all my life did not sound very appealing.

When the idiot calmed down, the screams of the heroine were ringing through the theatre; I warned her, didn't I? She got what she deserved. That is what happens when you don't listen to me. I always know better.

I really wanted to hit him. I wanted to hit him very hard; so that every time he moved, he would remember the pain and fear he caused an innocent poor girl who's scared of her own shadow sometimes.

All I did was glare at him and mutter "not cool", which he didn't hear over the sound of the screams coming from the movie.

We get it, you're being chased by a hound of hell; but technically you did ask for it. But I didn't ask for a near death experience, did I?

I got out of the theatre after piss-face had the audacity to wink at me. I already knew how the movie ended, all sunshine and shit. I needed to calm down; seriously, my heart was about to explode. This is the last time I'll let them convince me to go see a scary movie.

Of course, that's also what I said last time they forced me to watch a scary movie.

As I was attempting to take deep breaths without feeling like crying, piss-face himself followed me out.

"Hey, I'm really sorry." The little shit still had a smile on his smile. "I just didn't expect that."

"Well, you shouldn't scare people, especially in horror films." That only made his smile grow.

"But it was just too funny, you were hopping around like a little kangaroo without its mommy," he let out a chuckle, but he cooled down after noticing my glare. He cleared his throat and averted his eyes, "though crowd."

I still wasn't amused. Normally, people aren't too keen on having the living crap scared out of them. Or maybe that's just me.

"Look I'm really sorry." He looked apologetic this time. But looks can be deceiving. "How about this: let me take you out. Anywhere you want, my treat. And we'll be even." He raised both his eyebrows waiting for my answer.

"No," I wasn't going to go out with a complete stranger, much less one who likes to scare people to death; who knows what else he likes to do? Maybe he thinks torturing a person until they beg to be killed something absolutely hilarious.

"I'm not going to do anything to you, if that's what you're afraid of," he had a ghost of a smile playing on his lips, "we could stay here and order something." He nodded to the tables across from the theatres, near the vending machines.

But, even if we stayed here, he could kill me and no one would hear because of the loud noise. McDonald's is across the street, and at least there are people outside.

"Fine, we'll go to McDonald's, but I have to warn you: I'm not one of those salad eating chicks."

"Trust me, I noticed." He had a little smirk on his face.

Any normal person would feel offended; after all, he did indirectly call me fat, but I did imply it too. I wasn't as normal as my parents wished me to be, and so I laughed off his comment, adding that I might eat his order as well.

It actually went okay and, I dare say, he was quite charming. He started sharing funny stories about him, his friends; he started telling me what he liked, and asked me a lot of random questions.

But I can definitely say this, sitting in McDonald's, munching fries while hearing funny random stories, was way better that sitting in a dark room with loud noises and potentially having a heart attack.

I guess sometimes, good things can come from talking to strangers.

Well, sorry mom. At least, you tried.