I was only 12 years old when I saw some of the first Friday the 13th. I wasn’t allowed to watch horror movies, but I snuck into the room where my big brother, who was four years older than me, was watching the film with his friends. I remember one scene in particular. It took place in a room with a bunk bed. It was night and all dark. A woman enters the room, undresses and lies down on the lower bunk to sleep, not knowing that the killer is hiding under the bed. I think she smokes a cigarette on the bed while looking in a book. Then suddenly someone from under the bed sticks a knife through her throat and kills her. You see how the knife penetrates her neck and how she slowly dies with her eyes and mouth wide open. That scene did something to me. Many years after watching it, I would still look under my bed before bedtime and at some point I even put my mattress on the floor. It really damaged and traumatized me permanently, and I still fear the dark when I’m alone. I want to play the victim because in some ways I really became a victim of this scene myself.