Thanks for the memories.
Just like any of your garden variety horror movies, it began with a group of wide eyed optimistic friends piling into a small motor boat (with a penchant for sinking) on their way to a secluded cabin in the woods. A cabin only really reachable by boat or logging roads, when the logging roads aren't blocked with the carcasses of burnt out trucks that is.
The 7 of us were excited about settling into a relaxing cabin weekend to celebrate turkey. With nothing to do but sprawl by fires and cook feasts, it promised to be a little slice of heaven and not a pilgrim in sight.
By around 3:00 on Day 1 we had all mustered just enough energy to finish lunch and then collaps
e for a nap. I woke up after approximately 2 hours along with the other girls, except I had apparently swallowed some fiberglass while I was sleeping. The pain was less than pleasant. So now I was sick. And now I would also be the go to person to blame when in about 4 days 6 of my friends all mysteriously come down with something.
" . . .well she made us eggs that morning and she was fondling the turkey an awful lot . . . ."
Not to mention all the door knobs I licked throughout the cabin. Anyway. I was feeling less than stellar. I hit the sheets first that night. And I think I fell asleep for a couple of hours until boyfriend crawled into bed. At which point I decided to become entirely awake. Mainly because of the erie noises coming from the corner of the room. In total darkness my hyper active imagination began thinking of worst case scenarios.
1)Zombies clawing through the floor
2)Ghost of small child scampering through the room
3)Animal of undetermined size or ferocity put on earth to irritate the be-jesus out of me (the most unrealistic possibility)
I'd hear sounds from various parts of the room and tried desperately to ignore them. This happend about 3 times until finally I was convinced whatever this ungodly being was, it was going to make it's way onto the bed. I lost my cool and shook awake boyfriend who proceeded to fling himself around the room like a crazy person trying to kill, what turned out to be a exceptionally threatening mouse. Thank god he didn't have the presence of mind to grab one of rifles resting in the corner by the bed. In the end we were pretty sure he didn't kill the mouse, just scared the crap out of it. By now we had become distracted by the mini masacre taking place on our windowsill.
Earlier in the evening there was a unseasonably large fly bouncing off lampshades and doing a very unsuccessful job of trying to get out of the house by slamming itself into closed windows. I'd totally forgotten about the fly until boyfriend pointed out that it just got caught in some of the spiderwebs in the windowsill. It was doing a similar unsuccessful job of freeing itself. Then like a page taken out of Beetlejuice, a particularly ferocious looking spider crawled out of what looked like a pin hole, unfurled itself to show off it's impressive 3 foot wing span, and proceeded to snatch the fly and drag it back to it's nest. The whole time the fly made a helpless humming sound with it's incapacitated wings. I had to look away. And then promptly fell asleep, or blacked out, I can't be sure.
I happily awoke the next morning not to find myself cocooned in spiderwebs. That would come later. That would come after a delicious Thanksgiving feast which I most likely tainted, and a delightful little boat ride. I've seen horror movies before, which is why I didn't venture to the empty hut behind the cabin. And why I didn't go to chop wood up the hill. Instead I decided to take a warm shower to knock the sick out of me. What could go wrong in a shower? (read: Psycho)
I climbed into the shower, and immediately noticed the cabin's regulation spiderwebs. What I didn't notice was the number of spiders. It was like I was rein-acting my own version of Arachnophobia. I mean, not 24 hours earlier boyfriend had been bitten on his neck by what could only be described as a horse with eight legs. We're still waiting for him to be able to shoot web out of his wrists. So there I am in the shower, and I realize I'm surrounded. I'm waiting for John Goodman to stroll in and take care of things, but I was alone. I did a quick head count and stopped at around 9, and I'd only looked to my left.
Spiders are useful I suppose. In my apartment I like them because I think they are killing the moths that are killing my cashmere. When however, on the final day of my long weekend I began packing and a humongous black hairy thing lurched out of my sweater I lost my cool again . . . this time entirely. I screamed like a girl, and boyfriend casually came in and killed it.
"That's EXACTLY how everyone in the town died in Arachnophobia! A stowaway spider!"
And that was my weekend.
Home safe and sound. Slightly worse for wear, as the boat ride in the pissing rain for 20 minutes didn't do the ol' cold any favors. But I'm hopeful the fever will break tonight. Otherwise we may have to perform an exorcism.