I had an incredibly terrifying dream last night, and I am vaguely tempted to write it down and make it a horror story. The problem: A) I am terrified of horror stories, and B) doing that means I will have to think about this shit some more. And that housekeeper scared the shit out of me. So I can't decide what to do about it.

It was basically an evil house story: some chick buys this beautiful old Southern house, starts seeing things (like a parade marching down her hallway, with elephants and scantily clad circus girls), acquires a housekeeper who starts off normal but rapidly turns into a terrifying version of the chick's mother, meets her real mother and realizes that something is playing with her head. Then she does a standard Horror Heroine search to discover that her "housekeeper" has been claiming to be someone who lived in the house several decades prior but clearly is not actually that person, and also discovers that she can't find records of a single other person who has lived there even though the house is mentioned in records going back into the prior century; it's as if all traces of the residents have vanished. She is incredibly reluctant to go back but is convinced by a friend that if there are plenty of other people with her then nothing will happen. Of course this is not the case, and the house makes her hang herself right in the middle of everyone, who have been made by the house not only to not see her, but to forget she ever existed at all. Her mother walks by the dangling corpse and doesn't even notice it. The dream finished with another poor smuck meeting with "her" (actually whatever the fuck evil spirit was inhabiting the house) to buy the house.

. . . I admit it's less creepy when you don't have dream-cinema presenting you with visions of circuses coming right down a hallway.