Lifetime Movies They Need To Make

I should be packing, but as it happens, procrastinating's one of my talents. Actually, I'm so good at procrastinating that I've almost forgotten how not to procrastinate. Yay me. Anyway, yesterday I decided that watching a bunch of Lifetime movies was infinitely preferable to being productive. Yay me again. It was fun. And it got me thinking about Lifetime movies that I don't think exist (but, I'm not double checking. If they do exist, that obviously just means that I have a very rich future ahead of me making fantastically shitty movies) but should.

Here's what I have so far.

STD School

There's this kid at this school who comes from a broken home. So, in an effort to push away the pain, he starts seeing a lot of prostitutes, and before long (like, after a week or something. Yup. A week sounds good) he's contracted every STD, ever. When he finds this out, he's all like, "I don't want anymore STDS!" and swears off all sex with prostitutes, and starts having sex with his classmates instead. All of them. So, all of the kids in school end up with with every STD ever, too. And the girls all end up pregnant, and some of the boys, too, and when the babies are born, they also all have STDs. And it's a big news story, too. And lessons are learned on every side.

She Was Only Seven-- Ye Olde Lifetimee Speciale

Harken back to the days of olde. The 1800s or something. Before the days of pollution (except for coal. And the tears of small children slaving away in the coal mines), loose women (well, they were killed by Jack the Ripper), and everything else bad, there was the man who started it all. (Ignore the fact that that statement doesn't make sense.) And his niece. Pretty, seven year old Sarah. Her parents are dead. Of Black Plague. Luckily, her uncle takes her in. Unluckily, however, he is also an opium dealer, and he shows her his wicked world. Before long, little Sarah becomes an addict, spending all of her time in opium dens. And drugs aren't her only vice. She also gambles with the Pokemon cards her uncles gets with the opium. And then she dies. Of an excessively sinful life at such a young age. But, her death is a turning point for her uncle, and he vows to never have anything to do with opium or weird little animated things ever again. But then he dies. Of Black Plague. And grief.

Do You Know The Ripper Man?-- Ye Olde Lifetime Speciale

There's this woman, and she actually isn't a prostitute-- I mean, Lifetime never starts out with those types of women-- but she is dressing in more revealing clothes then she would usually. You see, her husband just died-- he choked on his priest collar-- and this is the form her grief has taken. But, when Jack the Ripper sees her wandering the dark London alleyways, he doesn't doesn't know this. So he stabs her. She takes a while to die, but she's conscious throughout. She whispers to Jack the Ripper that she wasn't really a prostitute and, overcome with guilt, he stays with her till the end. As she dies in his arms, they whisper to each other all of their deepest secrets and heartaches. Also, I think Jack the Ripper should be a pirate. So he can thoughtfully mutter, "arrr," whenever the woman says anything particularly deep.

Tell My Mother I Loved Her-- A Lifetime Movie and Ghost Adventures Joint Production

There was once a little girl, but she was killed by some really awful person. Now, she haunts some house by the sea, crying all the time. Because of her, no one ever wants to move there. They hear her ghostly wailing as they check out the house, and then they flee. But now, Zak Bagans is moving in, and he won't rest until he finds out why this little ghost girl is so upset. He threatens other ghosts, takes his steroids, flexes his muscles, gasps over scratches, and calls every female he comes across, "sweetie." And the ghost stops crying, because, really, this is all she ever wanted.

Ian Somerhalder Is Pretty.

The plot of this? Doesn't matter. Ian Somerhalder just needs to be in it. All of it. Because he's pretty.

Being Afraid

I have this bad habit of, on those nights when I'm alone, putting on a horror movie and promptly getting terrified.

I really really really really love horror movies. I love being scared. When I'm with another person, at least. At least one other person. Then, I can just assume, no matter how unrealistic it is, that they'll protect me.* When I'm alone, though, any noise is obviously something malicious and crazy.

The movie doesn't even have to be particularly good or realistic. I could even be watching something like this or this, and I'll just be giggling over how ridiculously ridiculous everything is, when there'll be some gust of wind and I'll be all, "oh, shit! A ghost!"

It's the worst when I have to get up and pass a mirror. At night, especially in that state of mind, I can barely even look at them. I pointedly don't, really. I think I might have watched an episode about them in Are You Afraid Of The Dark? back in the day that scarred me. Or it could be the fact that every horror movie ever, at least since the last million years, includes a creepy ghost or ax murderer popping up in a mirror, looking all evil and creepy. So, that's kind of what I expect. It's awkward.

But it's still a delicious feeling. As much as I prefer getting afraid with other people by me, there is something special about doing it alone. I'll be back in college, where alone time doesn't exist, on Sunday. I think I might actually miss that private terror. Of course, I'm totally excited, too. As much as I'll miss my Cape friends, I'm wicked stoked to see all the Camp Champ kids. Wow, this is a conflicted entry.

*Awkward true story time: when I was little I used to sleep with about 80 million dolls and stuffed animals on either side of me, so that if a monster came, he could eat them first, and hopefully be full by the time he got to me. And when I was five and we'd just moved from Rhode Island to the Cape, I insisted on sharing a bedroom with my little brother-- I probably figured that my twin brother'd be too annoying-- so that I wouldn't be alone. Like my infant brother could save me if anything happened. I was a weird child, I think.

The Haunted House Mystery (or, I still couldn't write)

I have another terrible story from my childhood. This one's from third grade, when I was eight. I'm sure you guys are all wicked stoked.

Oh, and for some reason, I'm reading Emily as having a really masculine voice. Like, one of a forty year old man. Or Patrick from Sponge Bob. I really don't know.

*

"Once there was a little girl named Polly who was 5, and a little girl named Emily who was 8. One morning they went to an old haunted house. But they didn't know it was haunted. Then, they saw a ghost. They ran to their older sister, Lily, who was 15. She said it used to be a school house, but it had fallen down on the kids so it was haunted. Polly got really scared and cried. But Emily said "I will go to the haunted house."

Soon Emily came back and said "I think I found something. Will you come with me?" Polly said no, but Lily made her go. So Polly went with Lily and Emily. They looked and looked and while they were looking they saw some ghosts. Some were boys and some were girls. But all of the ghosts were bad. Emily and Polly screamed. It was a very scary sight.

Just then Polly yelled, "I found something." Emily and Polly found a secret passageway. All of a sudden there was a bump. Emily asked, "Did you feel that bump?" "Yes" replied Polly. "What made that bump?" asked Emily. All day they looked for clues. But then, suddenly, they knew. The ghosts had made that bump."

So... like, the dorm's haunted..

Like, really. I mean, I lived in Jensen freshman year and even though it's supposed to be, it totally isn't. They only thing that ever happened at Jensen was the fire door opening at two in the morning. That was annoying, but, I mean, that was the *only* thing to happen all year.

At Feeley, we've been here not even two months, and things have happened. For example, when the windows aren't locked, the sort of pop open. Every morning at 7:44 the TV in the common room turns on to that weird channel with the bars of colors going down it. It turns off just before 8. Also, we've had about a million things go missing, only to be found later in totally random places. We've lost and found a birth certificate, a wall hanging, big plastic water bottles, eye liner, keys, sun glasses, books, a camera, a silver purse filled with quarters, and a hat. And there have probably been other things I just can't remember. The point is that this basically only ever happens in Feeley. It never happened to me in Jensen, or at my house. It's the same for my roomies.

This might or might not have anything to do with a haunting, but there are five of us on the second floor. Well, out of the five of us, four of us have had out laptops break at least once in the past two months. And Rachell, who's the only one with a so far okay laptop, had her two-and-a-half year old truck break down.

So far, I've only mentioned what's happened in the common room and the triple. Rachell and Brittany live in the double, and they've had a lot of things happen there. They have had picture frames fly off the wall and they've heard whispering. One time, Brittany saw a girl standing in the closet. She looked like Rachell but, you know, wasn't.

O.O

Paranormal Activity= fucking scary movie. Seriously, it was terrifying. Katie is going to get us all. Also, I really want to play with the ouija board but the roomies won't let me. So I'll tell a story instead. This is pretty much how my mom told it to me, as far as I can remember.

When my mom was a kid (about thirteen, I think?), she and my Aunt Sue got out their ouija board, grabbed their cat and some candles, and went down to the basement. They lit the candles and sat around the board. They put their fingers on the stylus, and began.

"Is there a spirit in this room?" they asked.

After a few chilly moments, the stylus slowly moved to "yes."

They stared at it, neither one saying anything. Then, "Who are you?"

"C-O-N-A-N-D-R-E." (My mom figured that meant his name was Con Andre, but who knows? Maybe it was Conan Dre, or 'with Andre.' It's creepy, though.)

"Are you evil?"

"Yes,"

"Are you leaving?" they asked. Now they were afraid.

"Yes," it said. All at once, the candles blew out, the cat ran off, its fur standing on end, and they heard breaks squealing from the driveway.

Sometime later, my mom was standing by her mirror, brushing her hair. She looked away for a second, and when she looked back at her reflection, she saw a man sitting on her bed behind her. He was middle aged and wore an old suit and bowler hat. My mom turned around. The bed was empty. She ran out of the room.

This happened repeatedly, to herself and friends who sometimes slept over, until her family moved away. She thinks, though, that the man was Con Andre.

The only time anything ever happened to me when I played with a ouija board, it wasn't real. I was nine and at my friend Tanya's house. It was the glow in the dark kind, she'd only just got it and we were both wicked excited to play with it. We went down to her playroom in the basement, and turned off the lights. After that, I can't remember the exact events, but she made the ouija board say that it was Marilyn Monroe speaking, and she was gonna kill me. I was only nine- I had no idea who Marilyn Monroe even was, but I totally believed her. I think I was a bit hysterical; I was definitely freaking out. I mean, Marilyn Monroe was going to fucking kill me. It was terrifying. Of course now, it's just wicked funny. But watch it be true... if I ever just die, it was probably Marilyn Monroe, finally getting her revenge or whatever. That or it was Katie from Paranormal Activity. Both are quite likely, really. Or not. Whatevs.

<3