Everyone has that one place that is special to them. Maybe it is the house that you grew up in, maybe it is the first house that you ever bought on your own, maybe it is the house your grandparents lived in that you can still smell to this day when you close your eyes. When you first move into a house, it is empty. You slowly unpack boxes and fill it with furniture. But it doesn’t start becoming a home until you start to make memories in it: eating dinner at the kitchen table for the first time, mowing the yard, your kid drawing on the wall in their room. These small moments transform the house around you into a home. You grow into a home physically and emotionally. It becomes a part of your family.
Whether home is the place you live, the feeling you get when you’re with the people you love, or a place you are safe, for many people home is a refuge. It is the place we escape back to after a long day at work; somewhere we can shut out the dark and dangerous things in the world. Even when the physical dangers of the world threaten to penetrate our home, we have defenses. We can lock doors and windows, pull curtains shut, set an alarm system, and even see who is at the door through a video doorbell. But what happens when something threatens your home from within? What if the locks and alarms aren’t enough to keep everything out?
Growing up, I had a bed frame that basically had shelves for the headboard. Whenever I was scared, I would clear off the shelf just behind my head and scooch up so that I could only see the bottom of the shelf above me. For some reason, this was the only way I could make myself feel safe and push my fear away enough to go to sleep. I had created a sanctuary for myself and I was convinced that nothing “bad” or “scary” could get me when I was there. We moved when I was 11 and I got a bunk bed for my new room. As I laid in that new bed for the first time on that first night in the new house, I wanted to slide up into my sanctuary and couldn’t. And while I grew to love the new house, that first house I lived in will always be something that can bring me peace and make me feel safe even when just thinking about it.
My dad traveled a lot for work when I was young. And while we locked the doors and still ate family dinners when he was gone, the house never felt quite the same without him there. In our first house, my bed was right below a window. I could kneel in bed and see out to the front yard and the street. At one point, some teenagers had been going through the neighborhood smashing mailboxes. One night, I woke up to the sound of screeching tires and laughter. I looked out and saw a group of teens getting out of a car and one had a baseball bat in his hand. Suddenly, my dad ran out from our garage. He was shirtless, wearing black and white Hammer Pants with a bat in his hand and he was bellowing. The teens froze and then screamed, scrambling back into their car. That image of my father will forever be etched into my mind. It was an embodiment of the protective force and presence that he was for us.
As I grew up and became a horror fan, I always identified any time that a family in a horror movie struggled with needing to leave a haunted house. I know that feeling of not wanting to leave a house. But in horror movies, not wanting to leave is almost always pinned on finances. The families in The Amityville Horror, The Conjuring, and The Haunting in Connecticut all find themselves in dream scenarios with their new homes. The deals are too good to be true and they sink all of their money into the homes. Then, when things start to go wrong, and the parents discuss leaving, one of them inevitably says something along the lines of “we can’t. All of our money is in this house”. So, when I saw Insidious (2011) and the family actually did leave their home when things got supernaturally out of control, I was really intrigued. The Lamberts were in a new house that they were building into a home. As the supernatural occurrences begin to escalate for them, they initially are resistant to moving. This house is new. It represents their new life and new start. But when it is clear that something is going on and their family is in danger, they move. Finances be damned.
At the new house, Renai (Rose Byrne) is already making it feel like home as she unpacks and listens to peaceful music. The kids have fully settled into their rooms and the feeling of that new start and new life that permeated the first house is even stronger here. The relief of having escaped the supernatural entities that we plaguing them compounds the positive feelings that are already there as the Lamberts build their home together. They are doing all of the right things. They have put their family first and they are working to build this new life as Renai pursues her passion of making music. But it soon becomes clear that moving hasn’t changed anything. The Lamberts are still haunted and have to now fight to make their home safe. Insidious is a scary movie. There are plenty of moments that make me jump or feel genuinely uncomfortable even on multiple viewings. But the moment that never fails to really hit home for me is when Renai first realizes that the new house isn’t safe either. As she is folding laundry and listening to music in the new house, suddenly the music changes. She then hears laughter and sees movement down the hallway. Eventually, an entity bursts out and runs past her. She realizes that things are as bad, if not worse, in this new house. The fear, sorrow, and dread on her face in that moment is palpable and anyone who has ever truly loved a house and felt safe in it can put themselves in her shoes and imagine what it would be like to lose that.
I have three sisters, so we never really had any space to ourselves. My two younger sisters shared a room and all four of us shared a bathroom. A big reason that we moved was because the house we were in was too small once my youngest sister was born. After we had been in our new house for a few years, my parents decided to finish the basement. I was going to get a bedroom that wasn’t right with all of my sisters and a small bathroom to myself! But, the first night I was supposed to be down there I was too scared. I didn’t have any sort of sense of safety and comfort there and I ended up sleeping upstairs on the couch. I had always had moments where I longed to go back to the house I grew up in, but it had never been stronger than it was on that night.
My best friend still lived two doors down from the old house. My school was still very close to there. So, I was driven past the old house a lot and it was always a little hard. I wondered what had happened to my room, were they enjoying swimming in the pool, did they change anything in the basement. I remember asking my parents frequently if we could move back. Initially, their responses were understanding, but they quickly became exasperated. The house was still a mental safe space for me. I had so many memories and moments that I could go back to whenever I needed to feel safe. Just this past year, the old house was put up for sale for the first time since we had moved out. My wife and I were in the market, and even though it was out of our price range, we went to do a walkthrough. It was a weird and amazing experience. The layout was mostly what I remembered, but literally everything else had changed. And I was so much bigger. Everything felt out of proportion. But, when I stepped in my childhood room, I could still feel it. I stood at the window and looked out and just felt safe. Unfortunately, we didn’t end up buying the house, but I have a new memory that keeps it feeling safe and special for me.
And as I walked through my childhood home, my horror loving mind couldn’t help but jump to different movies. Returning to a childhood home is a common enough trope in horror movies. But, usually the protagonist is going back to a neglected and derelict structure that houses nothing but negative memories for them. They are going back to face or confront something from their past that they have never been able to escape. Sinister (2012) is a fantastic movie in many ways. The Oswald family is moving, but none of them want to. The kids long to go back to their home. Even as an adult seeing it for the first time, I can relate to those kids. It immediately took me back to that feeling of longing to move back into the house that was the only one I had ever known. None of the family feels safe in their new house, even the father, Ellison (Ethan Hawke), who moved them to work on his newest book. And, they are right to feel unsafe. A presence lurks in the house and begins to take its toll on each of them. Things get bad enough that they do leave. Watching, my immediate reaction was “Finally!” Of the hundreds of horror movies I had seen up to that point, no family had actually left the haunted house and gone back to where they had been safe. They were going to be able to go home. Back to the safety they had known and had been longing for the entire time they had been in the new house.
Unfortunately for the Oswalds, leaving for safety and comfort is actually the worst thing they could have done. By doing so, they activate a curse that leads to their deaths. Literally the act of going back to their home that they all feel safe in is their downfall. To say the least, I was shocked. It was such a perversion of the idea of a home being somewhere safe and sacred.
A home is a sacred place. Stop for a second and close your eyes. Think back to a time when you felt completely safe and secure in a home. Maybe you can smell cookies baking or that certain perfume that your grandma wore. Maybe you can see your room or the view from your window. Let that feeling of safety and nostalgia come over you. Now, imagine losing that. Imagine that despite everything you do to keep it, something is threatening you in your home. It is easy to take the safety and security we feel in our homes for granted. In the house we are in now, I don’t even think about being safe. I lock the doors and turn out the light every night before bed and assume I am safe. But, when my son asks me to check his closet because he is scared, or tells me that he hears something breathing when he is trying to sleep, I have moments when I question if I am doing enough. And, in my head, I go back to my first room, slide up under the shelf, and feel like everything will be okay.
