He ran into my room in terror, tears streaming down his face. It was the dead bathtub lady from The Shining.
On the screen, a naked, bloated hag of a woman was shuffling towards him, mocking him with laughter as she stared into the camera. He heard a woman’s laughter coming from the TV, and his eyes shot open.
He had fallen asleep on the couch while watching Die Hard, and as luck would have it, The Shining was the next movie to play. The first time I had ever heard of The Shining, it was because my older brother, who was 12 years old at the time, came to me in a breathless panic.
