It was not a good movie, but it still managed to creep the hell out of me. I've always been susceptible to that stuff, ever since I read the book and my sister Laurie pasted red eyes on all my stuffed animals when I was twelve, just to hear me scream.
Sure enough, last night, I woke up, not at 3:15, but at 4:08. And I thought, "What if this is the apartment's special time?" And, with a scream, I shoved Corb awake, and clung to him like a co-joined twin.
Now, I'm preparing for an overnight in New York City. It should be fun, actually, as long as the room isn't haunted.