When I was about six or so, I was playing in the living room and my brother started watching STEPHEN KING's IT– the miniseries starring TIM CURRY. I asked my brother if I should leave, and he said, "If you want to." I decided to stay, and watched through the opening bit alright, and then it showed a little girl playing while her mom goes inside the house. She then hears goofy laughter and sees a clown appearing behind flapping sheets while spooky music plays. The next scene showed her being loaded into an ambulance with a white sheet over her face. If you want more than a description, here's the scene:

I don't know if the rest of the movie would have traumatized me, because I ran away. What I did afterwards or where I went escapes me. I'm not afraid of clowns, although to this day I still get a bit anxious every time I see TIM CURRY.

The year was 1979, my Dad was working in Atlanta, so my Mom and I spent the summer with him. A great time. One of the best summers I ever had. Lots of cartoons (first time I ever saw the RANKIN & BASS "King Kong" toon), Space Giants, 6 Flags, that DC Comics live action thing with the Justice League. I made friends with a kid in the next apartment, a friendship that ended abruptly when we argued over which was cooler, X Wings or Y Wings (I preferred the more rugged Y Wing). A great summer all told. Except for one thing…

1979 was the year of PROPHECY.

I was a Famous Monsters kid, I loved monsters. I grew up with THEM, TARANTULA, many HARRYHAUSEN films, the CREATURE FROM THE BLACK LAGOON, PETER CUSHING, CHRISTOPHER LEE and HAMMER. GODZILLA was my personal hero, and now we had a film that billed itself not as a monster movie but as "THE MONSTER MOVIE." The incredible print ads featured the three step evolution of a hideous thing in a womb sac, the slug lines read "Don't move, don't breathe, she is alive, and she will find you." The last picture was of a monstrous, toothy, deformed thing that just screamed, "cool monster." It was supposed to be about some kind of creature spawned by pollution, a mutant grizzly bear I heard. Good Lord, I had to see this.

Be careful what you wish for.

I begged the folks to take me, and we settled into a comfy theater for a night of monster goodness. By the time the lumberjack put the chainsaw near ARMAND ASANTE's face, I began to grow very uneasy. Maybe, just maybe, this would be too intense for me. I started to squirm. I had no clue it would get worse. Momma Bear's attack on the campers seriously scared me. Although we never got too good a look at her, it was obvious that this was one seriously messed up creature. Not cool by any means, but utterly disgusting. The exploding sleeping bag scene has gotten a lot of derision over the years, but to my 8-year-old eyes, it was quite nasty. It only gets worse when they talk later about the evidence of the dead campers, evidence that was at the hospital in buckets! Ick. It was becoming plainly obvious; PROPHECY was not what I expected. Then it happened. The scene that burned itself into my retinas like the stare from a Gorgon. I closed my eyes as quickly as I could, but it registered, it was too late. My childhood was over, at 8 years of age no less. The scene that scarred me for life and began years and years of nightmares.

The mutant baby bear in the trap.

The sight of that uber-disgusting, slimy, deformed thing, squealing in agony was too much for me to take. Up there, on that screen in Atlanta, was the single most disgusting, disturbing, grisly sight I ever saw. I could take no more, this was simply too much. I begged my folks to take me home. Dad was ticked off (the old, "we payed our money" line), but Mom (thank God for Mom, God bless Mom!) overrode him. She hated the film anyway and could have cared less to stick around. Besides, no way was her baby boy going to be traumatized by this damned thing (well, too late for that, but you know). We went home, the fate of the characters and the beasts a mystery to me for many years. I always felt that PROPHECY's PG rating was a fluke. This was an R film if ever there was one, and had it been given it's true rating, I would never have asked my folks to take me.

As I grew up, I suffered from many a PROPHECY induced nightmare. The bears, or some variation thereof haunted the old dreamscape. I still have them from time to time. The kicker is this, in the ensuing years; I have become one of the films only supporters. Yes, it is heavy handed at times, but it has a good message about pollution and how it affects us and the land. It's scary, well shot and acted. And the FX work is in no way sub par. Maybe I remembered that terrified 8 year old in terror, cowering in the seat, maybe that colors my perception, but I always rise to defend TOM BURMAN's creatures when folks slag them off (as an aside, I must note that BURMAN provided superb effects for a film that is a major favorite of mine, THE BEAST WITHIN). I have just about seen all of the film too. I can actually look at the main bear. I don't like her, still find her quite upsetting, but can look at her. But not the baby. When PROPHECY plays on TV, and if I catch it, I look away, change the channel or cover my eyes. As a grown man nearing 40, I still cannot let the fear go and look at the stinking thing. Now I have seen some of the most disturbing, disgusting, upsetting, bloody, gory horror films of all time in the past 30 years. Movies that make many folks react the same way I reacted to PROPHECY. I watched them without batting an eyelash, loved every minute of them, and added them to the DVD collection. But PROPHECY cut me too deep. The scar is still there and will never heal. All due to a mutant bear squealing in a trap.

The summer ended on a high note. THE BLOB played on TV one night. Thank God for STEVE McQUEEN! But PROPHECY was not done with me yet. Back home in Charlotte, my brother and sister came back from the mall. They promised to pick me up some comic books or something. They came back with Fangoria #2… cover story and feature?

PROPHECY.

I cried for about hour after that.

To read more by David, be sure to check out Confessions of an Anxious/Depressive.

As a child, I really had no restrictions as to what I could watch on T.V. or as video stores opened up what I could rent.  I do remember at the age of 8 being terrified of the MANIAC trailer every time it came on T.V. and when I finally saw it at 14; it is now one of my favorite horror movies.  When we got cable, my brother and I could watch every horror movie on HBO or Showtime and it is because of that I have a love for horror to this day.

Now I can't remember what age I was when I kept seeing the tape for BLOODSUCKING FREAKS.  All I know is that the cover scared the shit out of me and I was always drawn to it every time we went in to rent something.   It was the picture of the director JOEL M. REED on the back of the box that scared me too death, but I couldn't put it down every time I went to that video store.  My dad would say, "Do you want to rent it this time?" I would always say, "No." I think I finally got the nerve to rent it with my boyfriend who is now my husband and I was 25 at the time.  I now know it was a piece of crap and JOEL REED wasn't even in it, just on the cover.   It really is a joke of a movie with bad effects and bad acting.   It was his sinister grin that to this day gives me the chills.  He is so creepy looking.

Anyway I would love to thank my parents for not being restrictive on what my brother and I could watch when we were younger and that is why I have such a love for horror.   We both turned out normal from all of the stuff we saw. I would also like to thank my mom for renting I SPIT ON YOUR GRAVE for me when I was 15 after I asked her to bring back anything horror.   It has remained one of my favorite movies due to CAMILLE KEATON's performance.  If my mom only knew what she had rented for me that day I am sure she would not have rented it.  She said she thought the title was cool.

I cannot wait until my 3-year-old son is old enough to share my love for horror.   He has been to several conventions and has his own CHUCKY doll, so I hope he follows in my footsteps.

UNK SEZ: Great traumafession Jenny. We've been talking a lot around here about age appropriateness and horror films lately. I'd like to think kids with open, loving parents who are involved in their lives are pretty durable and you (and your mom) sound like a fine example of that. Color me jealous, I didn't get my first Chucky doll till I was in my twenties! (thanks for the swell b-day gift Kip and Sheri!)

During World War II my parents took the family to see DRAGON SEED, a movie about the Japanese invasion of China. The tension built as the Japanese approached a small rural community. The family's grandmother was too obese to travel fast so they hid her in some bushes. The soldiers found her and raped her. Her hysterical crying remained with me throughout the war, reminding it could happen to my mother if we were invaded. To this day I have fears of being attacked because of invasion, whether by wars or into my home, car, etc.

I must add my family, especially my very creative mother, were fans of the gothic. During the depression after my parents lost their farm we moved into a small, rural village. For lack of money and no special events in the community my mother would take us to the cemetery at night to tell us macabre stories as we sat on tombstones.

We also lived in a very large home with a basement not unlike a dungeon. If I had to go to the basement, on return I would run up the stairs as many outstretched arms pursued me.

At age 75, I am a very happy person!!!!!!!!!

UNK SEZ: Tom, where do I even begin with such a stellar Traumafession? First of all, thanks for dispelling the notion that trauma is reserved for the horror genre. The truth is war, rape and fear for our loved ones trumps most of what is found in the average horror film. Secondly your mother is an inspiration, being taken to the local cemetery for some homemade brand-trauma tales sounds like a dream come true to me. And lastly thanks for including your age, not only does it illustrate the staying power of kindertraumas but their universality as well. I spend a lot of time fretting about getting older, but if I get to be half as cool as you clearly are, I'm looking forward to it!

My biggest child hood trauma would have to be an even split between GONE WITH THE WIND, as seen with my folks at a drive in at the tender age of 5 or 6 , and several children's records we would listen too all narrated by DAVID FROST.

I am probably older than most readers here and grew up in South Africa, where television was only introduced in 1976. I have no childhood television memories to speak of, and we didn't frequent the movies very often. We read a lot of books, and had LP's with children's book narrations. We were as glued to them as any child today is glued to the TV screen. These LP where not musicals, but the narration was usually accompanied by music adding to the tension created by the deep and serious voice of DAVID FROST. Tubby the Tuba was the only one of the LP's that didn't scare the living daylights out of me….

Jack and the Beanstalk's ever-coming Giant, whose large and heavy steps would vibrate the house (or so it seemed to me, would send me screaming to my mother, and to a nightmare filled night – or several.) The Pied Piper of Hamlin was another one that scared me to death (although I did like the mice) The seductiveness of his music, and the happy sounds of children disappearing though the streets echoing their laughter into the silence of god knows where terrified me. I don't think that I ever got to listen to the end of these records, or that I ever slept a good night sleep after listening to them – but still I would return, for more and more and more….

As I said above – the other half of my child hood trauma is all about the amputation scene in GONE WITH THE WIND. (Probably many of you are wondering what exactly is so scary about that movie, especially as todays movies are a lot more revealing in blood and gore) I was so traumatized by that scene (my screaming obviously forced my parents to leave the drive-in with some haste,) that I refused to see that movie until I was about 25 years old…. at which point I did watch it in complete and utter boredom unable to understand how this is what had haunted me for so many years…

UNK SEZ: Thanks Rachel. Rachel blogs about horror over at TOP HORROR MOVIES CLUB. A recent post even concerned Kindertrauma and her thoughts about just how young is too young to allow kids to experience scary films. Similar discussions recently took place at both VAULT OF HORROR and CLUB SILENCIO. I threw my two cents into all three, but you know your Unk, my creepy kiddies, I wouldn't trade my childhood kindertraumas for the world!

When I was maybe eight or so, I got freaked out by the evil salamander men from the insanely demented Japanese Starman movie INVADERS FROM SPACE. I was alone watching it on the b&w UHF station in New Orleans with the local horror host Guru. He was a freaky hippie-type guy who was otherwise a weatherman. Anyway, the movie is packed with creepy nightmare weirdness, everything from a salamander dance troupe to an especially creepy salamander witch woman who has poison gas breath and a wicked cackle. The witch has a great, extended stalking scene as she chases a little girl through some creepy taxidermist shop full of skeletons and stuffed oddities. Little short pant Japanese kids are in constant peril; one is even dangled over lava. The salamander men (the Koolomonians) have creepy Joker like smiles and are quite acrobatic. I posted their bizarro dance troupe HERE.

UNK SEZ: Thanks Bwana Voodoo! If any of you kids have not visited Bwana at either GORILLANAUT or THE NAKED JUNGLE , you sure are missing out! Both joints are just chock full of cool things. If you are a fan of the PROPHECY bear, giant scary bunnies, BARBI BENTON, the BORN INNOCENT broom stick or even Paul Snider's Sex bench, you'll feel right at home at these duel bottomless pits of cultural debris! Go dive in!

Strangely enough, one of my most vivid experiences in the trauma department was with a pink little turd by the name of Kirby. That's right, that Kirby. This spherical chump has been a classic example of early video gaming to the point that I was familiar with him, even though my parents never bought us video games (my sisters and I were already lazy enough with worshiping our cuboid deity known as the television, after all). Now my mother was always rather neurotic about what we watched on television, what with the bad influences of certain programs and especially the easily frightening things we could get exposed to. However, obeying the rules of the house and only watching family friendly channels was no deterrent to being frightened out of my young mind.

Back to Kirby. One day whilst watching my comfy cozy cartoons where Wile E. Coyote could experience all the deaths of the FINAL DESTINATION series and not even lose his bladder control, the commercial breaks introduced to me an association to Kirby I never thought I would make. I don't know if anyone else remembers this commercial for the newest in Kirby video games, but it involved a hapless glutton in a bowling shirt being served meal after meal in a restaurant. He continued to eat so much that button after button burst from his shirt, but he continued to stuff his face, even oblivious to a breaking belt buckle and snapped trouser button. The finale to this disturbing meal was a slurp from a whipped cream covered finger. Predictably a rumble sounds and a huge explosion follows, covering shocked fellow patrons in undigested spaghetti. Gee, we're all so glad Kirby can outdo this bastard, right?

The images of those ripped clothes preceding such a disgusting burst of still intact food was cartoonish, but a child's mind doesn't always catch on to the humor of these things, does it? Anytime the commercial came on, I either hid my head under a pillow or left the room. My fear of people getting stuffed with food until they popped like a zit got worse when I overheard a conversation my parents were having with friends on a lovely little film called MONTY PYTHON'S THE MEANING OF LIFE. I did not get to see the film (including the humorously disturbing Autumn Years sequence involving Mr. Creosote) until my early teens, but just hearing about it, as well as the graphic details of exposed ribs and projectile vomiting, brought back some very discomforting memories. Clearly the advertising crew for Kirby had been inspired by our British friends in the MONTY PYTHON team. Watching it again after all these years brings loads of laughs, but know this: coerced organ removal while a stranger is still alive is nothing compared to exploding fat men.

UNK SEZ: Dear Bloodylocks, this Kirby person has a serious eating disorder. He can justify his actions by claiming that when he consumes his enemies he acquires their strengths, but let me tell you… been there, done that! And the results were disappointing at best. I recommend sitting your pink pal down in front of NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET 5: THE DREAM CHILD. If that movie's bulldozer of a bulimia sequence has no effect on him then I say the pixelated pinko is a lost cause!!!! Wait a minute, Aunt John just informed me that you were writing about a commercial involving a fat guy exploding post spaghetti gorge and not seeking advice about a troubled friend…never mind. You should still check out ELM STREET 5 though, at least for that face stuffing bit!