Reading Stephen King books and watching movies based on his books has ruined a lot of things for me. These things will never be the same.
When someone's shadow is at the bottom of my door, I get terrified. In fact, during a thunder storm my door crept open and my first, and totally sane, thought was "IT'S ANNIE WIKLES AND HER NOVRIL AHHH!" Alas, it was my cat. Paul Sheldon was very well done in the film Misery, I'm his number one fan.
Hotels. The Shining and 1408 have made hotels a nightmare. In isolation or not, I just won't travel. Espically if dead kids want to play with me.
Proms and other dances. I slow danced with my friend once...we all have regrets. If Carrie White did kill everyone who attended, at least the embarrasment and terror of not knowing how to dance would end.
Clowns. I don't know why people think clowns are funny, Pennywise will definately not be hired for my fictious futuristic childs birthday. It'll smuther me with the red wig as I die to the sound of a honking nose.
As much as Stephen King has the power to send me chills, it also has the power to entertain me for hours on end. Soiled pants or not, the paranoia is worth it.