If you’d asked me a year ago what my favourite horror movies were, I probably would’ve said Coraline or Get Out. These movies definitely make me question what I would do if I ever found myself in similar situations. Maybe I’m a bit optimistic, if not a little arrogant, but up until last year, I could’ve sworn I could outlive any character in any horror movie. Call me the “Final Girl”, but I was genuinely convinced I had the skills, the tools, and the wisdom to escape any situation and make it out alive.
Nonetheless, this year’s tricks showered me with so many horrors that I’ve come to realize that sometimes, I’m barely surviving my own horror movie. So, without further ado, I present my most light-hearted yet low-key existential horror scenarios that I somehow survived as the Final Girl.
1. Ticketmaster Wars
I have personal beef with whoever designed Ticketmaster’s ticketing system. I don’t know what I did to God for them to find it so amusing to send me to the back of the queue every time an artist comes to town. But honestly, the horror begins long before tickets even go on sale. An artist announces their “worldwide” tour, and Vancouver is nowhere to be found on the list. And when we do make the cut? Half the city is suddenly competing for the same tickets the second they drop. We’re going to war, baby, and sadly, we’re in the trenches.
My friends often think I’m incredibly lucky when it comes to getting tickets, and in some ways, I am: thanks to my extensive experience as a concert-goer. But, I’m convinced my body has permanently lost the ability to distinguish between an actual threat and being number 44,579 in the Ticketmaster queue. In most cases, I can proudly call myself the Final Girl, but God only knows the sacrifices it takes to make it out alive.
If your friend manages to get tickets for you, name your firstborn after them or build a monument in their honour. They deserve nothing less. And if you’re the one fighting for those tickets, give yourself a pat on the back, drink some water (but not too much), and find somewhere comfortable to sit while you wait to find out whether you’re about to have the time of your life or watch your concert dreams disappear before your very eyes. Either way, may the odds be ever in your favour.
2. Missing The Last Bus
Marylin Burns in Texas Chain Saw Massacre (1974)
I have never felt more abandoned than when the last bus turns the corner and disappears into the void. And even though you’re running for your life, you’re left standing in the dark, sweaty, out of breath, and with absolutely no clue how you’re getting home. This is, truly, the kind of horror that makes you wish the party hadn’t been that good, the conversation had been a little more boring, or you hadn’t stopped to take that one picture at a spot along your daily route.
But the real nightmare begins when you realize your phone battery is dying, the one person who could pick you up decided to go to bed early, or, even worse, it’s a weekday and you’re expected to show up to work or school the next morning as if you hadn’t spent the previous night seriously considering whether you’d ever make it home again.
I guess the hero of this story is an Uber, but this is the kind of hero you need to build a relationship with beforehand. And by relationship, I mean having enough money in your bank account to afford the ride. The worst part? This horror movie is entirely preventable. But would it really be a good horror movie if the main character weren’t just a little naïve?
3. Checking Your Bank Account After Going Out
Something I love about horror movies is when you start noticing that the main character is making one terrible decision after another without even realizing it. After a series of questionable choices, there comes a point when you tell yourself, that’s the cherry on top, and you just know the consequences are about to catch up with them. That’s me, quite literally, every time I go out.
In my head, there’s always someone else to blame: inflation, the economy, the questionable concept of free will, the law of abundance, or whatever cosmic forces might be conspiring against my financial stability. So, naturally, when I recently went to a farmers’ market, I convinced myself that a cookie and a couple of trinkets for my bag and bookshelf wouldn’t hurt. After all, what’s life without a few little purchases? Well… I can confidently say I will not be spending money until further notice.
Why is it that every time I open my banking app, I expect to see a balance with two digits, only to discover that the numbers have somehow multiplied? At this point, checking my account feels less like financial responsibility and more like watching the final scene of a psychological thriller.
As a consolation, I remind myself that at least I’m supporting local businesses. And honestly, my little trinkets are just miniature replicas of me: cute and impulsive. Just like every good horror movie, I should’ve known better than to check the basement (my bank account), but curiosity killed the budget.
Bryce Dallas Howard in Black Mirror, S3, E1 Nosedive
4. AI Pre-Interviews
The job market is THE horror movie. The end.
Okay, joking. But just when I thought the hiring process couldn’t get any more terrifying, I discovered that sometimes (if not majority of times), the first person evaluating your application isn’t even a person. We’ve officially entered an era where you might have to convince an algorithm that you’re qualified before a human being ever lays eyes on your résumé. Some companies even use AI to analyze recorded interviews, assessing everything from your answers to the way you speak. Imagine sitting in front of your laptop, trying to make eye contact with a camera while wondering whether blinking too much could cost you your dream job. At this point, I’m not sure if I’m applying for a position or auditioning to prove my humanity.
5. Getting Everything You Wanted and Realizing You Still Don’t Know What Fulfills You
Going to university was always my dream, and despite all the adversities and challenges along the way, I persevered. Like most things in life, it started with an excitement that was palpable and impossible to hide. Then came the exhaustion, the frustration, and the moments when I questioned whether I had it in me to keep going, only to remind myself that this was the very thing I had once prayed for. When things got particularly difficult, graduation became the light at the end of the tunnel, the finish line I kept telling myself would make everything worth it.
Now, as my time at SFU comes to an end, I’m beginning to realize just how much I’m going to miss this place and its people. The person I was when I first arrived is no longer quite here, or perhaps she is, just in different versions of herself. Somewhere between the deadlines, the late nights, the friendships, and the countless moments of figuring things out, I became someone I hadn’t quite anticipated. And yet, the one thing I thought I would have figured out by graduation was what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. Instead, I still have more questions than answers.
Anya Taylor Joy in The Menu (2022)
If you had asked me a few years ago what I wanted to do, I would have confidently told you I wanted to work in Marketing, regardless of the position. But having worked in the field has opened my eyes to how many other paths exist, and now I want to explore them, too. It reminds me of Sylvia Plath’s fig tree metaphor, where every fig represents a different possible life, each one tempting in its own way. The fear is that choosing one means letting the others wither away. And sometimes, standing there trying to decide, you end up with none at all. My problem is, I want to eat them all. Being in this program made me realize there are so many things and so many roles I would love to be. It opened my eyes to an endless list of possibilities that I feel they are waiting for me.
I suppose this is the part nobody really prepares you for: working so hard to reach a destination, only to arrive and realize you have no idea where to go next. There is something both exciting and terrifying about knowing that so many possibilities are still ahead of you, especially when you feel like you should already have a plan. I’m proud of how far I’ve come, and I wouldn’t trade the journey for anything. But if I’m being honest, a small part of me wishes I could go back to the version of myself who was so certain that getting here would mean having everything figured out.
I really hope this isn’t the part where the credits roll. I’d like to think it’s just the end of the first movie, even if the sequel has a questionable plot, an uncertain release date, and a main character who’s still figuring out her next move.
Maybe that’s what makes closing a chapter so bittersweet: you can be grateful that something beautiful happened and still be heartbroken that it’s over. I spent years waiting for this happy ending, imagining graduation as the moment when everything would finally fall into place. Instead, I’m learning that sometimes the happy ending is simply making it out alive, carrying the memories with you, and being brave enough to face whatever comes next. If this were a horror movie, I suppose I’d be the final girl, standing outside the house at sunrise, exhausted but alive, with no idea what’s waiting for me. And maybe that’s the bittersweet part of growing up, realizing that not every ending comes with answers, but that doesn’t make the journey any less worth it.
So, if there’s one thing I’ve learned from this year, it’s that surviving a horror movie doesn’t necessarily mean escaping a masked killer. Sometimes, it means just mean persevering through all the daily challenges. At the end of the day, we’re all just trying to survive our own little horror stories, one questionable decision at a time.
And if you’ve made it this far, congratulations! You’re officially part of the support group. Now, what’s your personal horror movie scenario? Drop your stories below. After all, misery loves company, and this final girl could use a break.