October holds a special significance for me, more so than any other month of the year.

There comes a noticeable shift in weather over a short period time; the cold brought on by night begins to linger into the day. Brisk winds and sporadic rainstorms become reason to spend less time outside.

Ambient noises of the summer fade away, with the insects falling silently to the ground after completing their life cycles.

At the exact right time to maximize food production and minimize water loss, trees let their leaves die in a dramatic synchronized display that leaves behind drab skeletons of what they were.

Everything is changing, becoming unfamiliar. The environment itself seems more hostile, each day growing darker than the last. It all happens in October, and it all makes me think of one thing: Horror.

My fascination with horror goes back to the fall of 2003, when I was a second grader with a television in their room. It served its purpose to keep me out of trouble, and then some. I will be the first person to tell you that I watched too much TV as a kid. I was mainly interested in cartoons back then, but if I didn’t like what was on I checked out what else basic cable had to offer.

Among that offering was the SYFY channel, a fast favorite of mine. I wouldn’t call anything I saw on there outstanding, but at the time it was a novelty. That’s how I ended up watching my first horror movie at 8 years old: “Jeepers Creepers.” I was probably not ready to see a gruesome monster dismembering people at that age, but I did.

It changed my life. For the following several weeks “Jeepers Creepers” lived rent free in my head. I was like, seriously traumatized. I couldn’t stop thinking about the monster. It was scarier than anything my innocent brain could have conceived of, and I couldn’t ignore the threat.

I felt powerless, like an impending doom was barreling toward me that I couldn’t escape; it was going to get me. That never happened, of course, but something about that experience stuck with me. I craved the feeling I got when a new monster took up residence in my psyche, and I probably watched dozens of B-movie cable horror shows chasing that dragon. You can say it: I was a weird kid.

Twenty years later, I can look back and say that life has given me way more to be afraid of than these movies ever did. There’s a lot out there to be scared of: Uncertainty about the future, losing loved ones, being alone.

For me, horror movies are a way to escape all of that. You know how the best way to forget about pain is to get hurt worse somewhere else? It’s like that, but there’s some sentiment there, too. They take me back to being that scared kid who pulled the blanket over his eyes when a jump scare was too much for him.

Horror is my absolute favorite genre of entertainment, and October is the best time of the year to consume it. Because I thought it would be fun, this year I’m going to write about a favorite horror movie of mine each week in October: “Spooktober,” if you will.

I believe horror is more hit-or-miss than any other genre out there, and I’ve watched a ton of it to be confident enough to write this. Hopefully this goes well, because it’s the only thing that will make me feel like all the bad ones I sat through were worth it.