TRAUMAFESSIONS :: Reader Cyndi on Visiting Hours


visiting hours!

When I was little, all I knew about my Dad’s job was that it was in a high-rise office building somewhere in the city. While watching T.V. one Friday night with my jerky older brother, we caught the ad for that movie VISITING HOURS where the lights in the side of the building slowly turn off to eventually reveal a skull face at the end. My older brother said that it was the same building where my Dad worked. Of course, I believed him and I started wailing hysterically. My mom couldn’t convince me otherwise, nor could my brother who was forced to admit he was just kidding. I kept crying until my Dad got home from work. 

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