My First Horror Book Experience
Do you remember your first horror book experience? I do, and I'll never forget it.
I didn’t read my first horror book until I was 12.
I remember, clear as day, standing near the back of my junior high library in Edgewood, Washington, gathered in a circle of 12–13-year-olds all staring at each other in shock and amazement. And what were we completely horrified by?
That’s right. Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark.
We were all extremely sheltered, on the honor roll, wannabe popular kids that had never been exposed to more than a paper cut.
And we were holding a horror book.
A horror book meant for elementary school children, but a horror book, nonetheless.
The only real story I remember from that day – and I’ve oddly heard other people bring this story up in the years since – was about a girl named Jenny that wore a green ribbon.
I remember very clearly my friend, Karley, gasping over the story of the haunting, odd Jenny. Every day, Jenny wore a green ribbon, and every day, her husband would ask her to take it off.
As an adult, I sometimes wonder why her husband cared about a stupid green ribbon in the first place, because that seems like something kind of silly in the grand scheme of a marriage. But I digress.
Every day, Jenny would tell her husband that she couldn’t take the ribbon off. On and on it went. Until one day, Jenny agreed that she would show her husband the reason for needing the ribbon.
She slowly untied the ribbon.
Letting it fall.
And then…
Turns out, the only thing that was holding Jenny’s decapitated head together was a little green ribbon.
And when she took it off…poof. No more Jenny.
Again, from an adult perspective, this story is riddled with plot holes. Why did Jenny’s husband marry her without knowing she had no head? How did the green ribbon never come up in conversation before the wedding? And most importantly: Why did Jenny stay with a guy that’s constantly questioning her fashion choices?
Just kidding.
Well, kind of. I would get annoyed, but props to Jenny. Maybe decapitation makes you more tolerant.
Wait, is decapitation the answer to marriage?
No. Getting way off topic here.
Revealing my age a little: this experience happened over 17 years ago. I don’t remember any of the other stories in the collection or whether it was raining or sunny outside, but I remember Karley’s horrified face at the thought of a girl’s head falling off.
I remember that for the next week, we would head to gym, and she would furtively whisper, “Do you remember Jenny?” Like Jenny was about to pop out of a random corner at any second.
I remember loving the idea that something unexpected could happen at any second.
I remember loving the feeling of being scared.
The thrill, the excitement, the adrenaline rush that I had only ever felt from being truly terrified.
And I’ve never looked back.
Remember your first horror book experience? Let’s talk about it here or here.