HFTOH - I Just Hate the Cinema

Reads: 124  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
There are some people who just don't understand the etiquette of cinema visits.

Submitted: March 03, 2017

A A A | A A A

Submitted: March 03, 2017



There it was again, the damn jostle of my seat.

This had happened repeatedly since the second they had sat down during the trailers, the damn girl behind me couldn’t keep her feet off the back of the chair next to mine, which in turn jostled my seat.

Combine that, the booming noises blasting through the cinema speakers and the large lights flashing in an otherwise darkened room and you have the perfect recipe for one huge disastrous headache.

The music in the speakers began to tense up as the actor shifted across the screen, the tension in the room building as he investigated a peculiar event happening to his body that was beyond his control.

He leant closer to the mirror in the dimly lit bathroom and lifted his top lip, turning his head a little as he wiggled a loosened tooth with his tongue, the music sparking to symbolise the sudden rush of pain felt in the nerve as he winced and stopped the uncomfortable movement.

“Oh my god, his tooth is falling out.”

I grit my teeth at a whisper that sounded behind me.

This hadn’t been the first time that she’d whispered the obvious.

It appeared that her friend was either blind or extremely stupid, as every time something significant was happening in the film she just had to whisper to her companion the exact events we were currently seeing.

Another jostle of my seat.

More tension broken by the whispered relaying of playing scenes.

The crinkling of treat wrappers to my right.




My fingers tightened around the object concealed in my pocket, no doubt my skin whitening at the knuckles with how hard I was gripping it, the nails digging into the palm of my hand.

This was my fourth visit to the cinema in three months and the other three times had been like a dream, even the film I’d gone to see that was primarily overrun with much younger viewers had been a more pleasant viewing experience than this, my first late night showing, was proving to be.

My head bounced off the back of the seat again as she once again shifted her feet, causing the dull ache behind my eyes to flare up again.

I barely had time to process my thoughts.

Within the blink of an eye, I found myself spinning in my seat and whipping the object from my pocket with a speed I’d never experienced before.

Angered adrenaline pumped uncomfortably through me as I found myself forcing the pocket knife my parents insisted I carry with me for protection at night into the sole of her shoe and eventually push it through into the flesh of her foot.

A shrill scream was heard over the noise from the speakers.

Warm blood dripped down onto the hand that was still holding onto the hilt of the knife.

There was the distant sound of frantic yelling as this girl tried to pull her foot from the tightly lodged blade.

I glare at her, my teeth gritted so achingly that I could feel spittle dribbling down my chin as I hear myself growling;

“Stop jostling my seat.”

© Copyright 2018 Hell R. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments: