It’s a calm day on the trails by Lady Bird Lake: Runners weave through crowds, a busker plays guitar, and boats float by on the water.
Then the screaming starts.
No, this isn’t a horror movie. It’s a gathering of one of Austin’s newest social groups.
The mission of Scream Club Austin is all in the name: It’s a way for locals to yell out their frustrations in the company of likeminded people. The group meets every Sunday around 7 p.m. on the Pfluger Pedestrian Bridge downtown.
Krystal Morris started the group because she was looking for her own source of stress relief. After a frustrating summer — which included her A/C going out and stubbing her toe multiple days in a row — Morris was searching for a “vent club.”
“I needed to get it out without punching someone in the face,” she said.
Then she found Scream Club Chicago, which launched in June and has inspired branches in multiple cities. Morris took it upon herself to start the Austin chapter.
The group held its first scream at the beginning of September. Around 150 people attended, which Morris said proved just how much the experience was needed.
“There were multiple people who cried,” she said. “Most people laughed. And I had, immediately afterwards, many, many people coming up saying how much they enjoyed it.”
Scream Club sessions are a spectacle. At the group’s last September meeting, a crowd quickly swelled on the bridge. Morris — holding up a poster asking, “Ever feel the need to scream?” — invited people to shake out the tension from their limbs before leading them through some collective breathing.
Then there was the screaming, which was thunderous. There were long battle cries, guttural howls and shrieks worthy of any slasher film. People passing by on the bridge and even sitting on boats in the river turned their heads to watch — and sometimes joined in.
Morris said there’s something special about doing all this with other people.
“Sometimes we need permission to scream,” she said. “We're so used to holding things together or feeling like we should be able to handle whatever is going on in our life, you know, especially as adults. … Just having permission to release is a really big part of it.”
But Scream Club isn’t just about letting go of negative emotions. It’s also about forming connections. There’s a level of bonding that comes from hearing a stranger screaming their heart out, Morris said.
“You have that camaraderie with not even knowing the person next to you, and I think that's an irreplaceable feeling that a lot of people don't have,” she said. “People either are pretty lonely … or they don't feel like they can vent to their friends because they'll be judged.”
Kenken Gorder has gone to Scream Club from the beginning. He said he first joined as a way to relieve stress, but he ended up meeting people.
“I actually made a new friend,” he said. “We met, talked for two hours, walked downtown and then made plans to go to Uchiko.”
Gustavo Seixas was at Scream Club for the first time.
“I've been having some ups and downs in my life, like with depression and stuff,” he said. “I was like, why not? There's so much sh— I want to scream about.”
After several rounds of screaming, Seixas was smiling. He said the experience was fantastic.
“It’s really good, just vent out all your frustrations, all your things you have to let go of. Being around everyone doing that, it builds community,” he said.
By the time the screaming stopped, the sun had started setting. The sky turned golden and the air cooled quickly, like the day itself was letting a breath out.
“I think it's a nice way to end the week, nice way to start a new week,” first-timer Teddy Tesfaye said. “Refreshed.”
