What a movie! Little did I know, the fun was just starting.
I left to make the long drive home from Indy, where Brenda lives. Wanting to merge into the left-hand lane, I turned to look at my blind spot. As I was turning back forward, the seat belt moved up my neck. I screamed and tugged at my neck, not entirely sure of what had a hold of me. How I didn't wreck my car, I'll never know.
Later, I woke up in the middle of the night. Staring into the darkness, I instantly remembered scenes from the movie where the characters were awaken in the dead of the night at 3:07 a.m. Always at 3:07 a.m.
Out loud, as I reached for my phone to check the time, I began to repeat, "Please don't be 3:07. Please don't be 3:07. Please ..."
I can admit it's sad the amount of relief I felt when the phone glowed of 1:55 a.m. Shew.
I woke up the next morning with sore shoulders, almost as if I had done a full upper-body workout the evening prior.
I thought about telling Brenda about all this, but didn't want her to think I couldn't hold my scary movies.
About lunch time that day, she called. She was slightly out of breath.
"Misty! I bird just hit my car. I was just driving and boom, it hits my windshield. There were two of them but the second one missed me!"
At this point, she was practically screaming.
"Do you think it's the same birds from the movie?"
At this point, I was laughing. Not just at how comical her reaction was, but how it matched my own. And when she told me her shoulders were killing her this morning, I couldn't stop the laughter.
I guess this movie was just like all the other scary movies we've seen after all. It ended with us laughing at each other.
Misty Knisely is managing editor of the Pharos-Tribune. She can be reached at 574-732-5155 or at email@example.com