Kaydeee

To Whom It May Concern (or, more likely, to the void), The flickering screen, a morbid embrace. It’s the only light I crave. Forget sunshine and rainbows; give me shadows and screams. Horror films, they understand. They get the ache in my soul, the constant dread that hums beneath my skin. Each jump scare is a jolt of recognition, a reminder that the world is a terrifying place, just like I always knew. The blood, the gore, the monsters lurking in the dark – it’s all a reflection of the darkness inside me, the parts I can’t escape. Romance? Comedy? Lies. Horror is truth. It’s the only genre that dares to look into the abyss and whisper, “I see you.” And in that shared gaze, I find a twisted comfort, a morbid solace. So, yeah, I love horror films. They’re the only thing that makes me feel… understood. In a beautifully, tragically, terrifying way. Forever in shadows, (Kaydee - or whatever angsty pseudonym you prefer)