Tag Archives: Pet Sematary

Victor Pascow Stole My Twinkie! by ELIO GALLARDO

 A few moments ago I woke up with that same fear that took over me then. That same cold that had once been in my body took over me once more. I sit in my bed. The night is cold and my room is dark. Everything about tonight reminds me of that night. I sit in loneliness and I begin to recall those scary moments once again because since they occurred I’ve not been able to set them aside. I will relive them once more.

The location was a town by the name of Carlsbad in the northern portion of San Diego. The day was Halloween 1991. I was only five years old. That night everything was cold. Darkness and a dense layer of fog made its way passed the lake and covered as far as the eye could see. I had just finished watching Stephen King’s Pet Sematary. It was midnight. I went to bed sure that I would be having a good night sleep. Not frightened by the movie I fixed my bed to tuck myself in.

When I was in bed I heard a faint sound coming from inside of the closet. Fear began to take over me and I rushed under the sheets. I made a barrier of my sheets to feel protected. I was sure that nothing could break through it. Minutes later I began to hear the noise coming from the closet once again. The faint noise became a very noticeable laugh and my fear grew even more. There were no adults around to help me forget the noises and fall to sleep. No scream could be heard either. Everyone was still hanging out in the front of the yard. It was too far for anything to be heard I was sure. My imagination started to let me know that the noises coming from closet were that of Victor Pascow, the zombie that comes back to life to warn the haunted family in Stephen King’s Pet Sematary. I was stranded in my room. Then and there I decided that I needed to know what was on the other side of the closet.

In the pitch-black room I made my way towards the closet. I inched towards it very slowly making sure that whatever was in it did not decide to eat me. I was trembling in fear as I put my ears up to the closet. I could hear the distinctly familiar laugh coming from the inside. I reached for the handle and slid the door open a bit…nothing. I slid it open some more and BAM!! There he was. Victor Pascow himself was staring straight into my eyes. I was paralyzed. I couldn’t move or look away. The hair on my skin was standing and my heart began pounding. Pascow’s bloody torn face stared at me and smiled. When I was able to catch my breath again I screamed and ran straight back to the sanctuary under my sheets.

I thought over and over that it was all in my head; even if it’s all too real it’s all in my head! None of it helped. I knew what I had seen and I was also sure that no one would ever believe me. That night Pascow’s smile haunted me all through the night and also paid me a visit in my nightmares. I recall that night with great detail. I recall the fear that was in me at age five and the effect that such an amazing story had. I remember it all too well and sometimes I fail to conclude if it was all real or just a nightmare product of such a horror movie.