I've been avoiding scary movies ever since I saw my first one.
It was Disney’s ‘Bambi’.
Stop laughing.
I think it emotionally scarred me.
Like Bambi’s poor mother, the hunter’s shot that killed her took me completely by surprise.
Oh, how I cried.
I was an empathetic creature, even back then. I wept for poor old dead Momma deer, who didn't even get a name in the movie. I sobbed for lonely, little Bambi, left to fend for himself in a scary forest. But I think I cried mostly for myself, as I realised that mothers - and therefore mine too - could die.
I vividly remember a little girl who was obviously on her second screening walking down the cinema aisle, whispering assurances to the kids in each row that what was happening on screen wasn't real, and that everything would turn out OK in the end.
By the time she got to our row it was too late.
