Childhood Fears Revisited

I used to be afraid of the dark. 

It's difficult for me to imagine it now, but when I was small, the darkness always loomed over me like a vast, unknowable ocean.  I was afraid I would be swallowed up in that blackness and drowned before anyone even knew that I was gone.  The dark was a living creature, and it was obviously trying to kill me.  There were places that I would not go, things that I would not do, if they took place in the dark. Sleeping at night was over rated, as far as I was concerned; I fought it tooth and nail and tantrum.  My parents were finally able to get me to stay in my bed after following a litany of rituals that would have made all of the nuns in my family proud. I had to have a goodnight kiss, a bright night light that also illuminated under the bed, and several serviceable stuffed animals in bed with me. The bedcovers needed to provide ample coverage, so that no part of me would accidentally be visible.  Every closet door in the house needed to be shut tight(there was darkness in the closet, after all).  But the door to my bedroom?  That had to be left open, no matter what.  That was a nonnegotiable.  

I had to have an escape route. 

Because what if the door to my closet was accidentally left open by my mom when she was trying to put away laundry after I fell asleep?  And what if that accidentally opened door allowed a small amount of closet darkness to seep out?  And what if that seeping darkness happened to roll under my bed at the same time my night light went out?  And what if I happened to wake up in the middle of the night and have to pee?

Whatever would I do? Why, I would throw those stuffed animals down, one at a time, and while the dark was chomping on those brave toys I would bounce really hard on my bed and fly right out the door of my room!

At least that is what I would tell myself, as I lay in the dark, completely covered with blankets, afraid to move, lest I catch the eye of random darkness rolling around on the floor. I must have been doing something right, since I survived into adulthood, fingers and toes intact. 

Now I'm not afraid of the dark.  I know that the darkness that is in my room at night is not a mythical creature ready to devour me.  I know that even with the lights out, my house is still my home, and everything inside of it is perfectly benign,  except for the cat who likes to attack your ankles when you pass by.   No, I'm not afraid of the dark.

Closets, however...


Go and check out more of the fun over at Mamakat's Writing Workshop--which is pretty darn famous!  Here's the prompt that I used:  Something that scared you when you were young...are you still afraid?

Sweet Dreams

A boy, 

Afraid of Darkness,

Whispered a wish to the beautiful Moon: 

Watch over me while I sleep!  

The Moon sent her silver beams,

And the Darkness could not find him. 

He slept.

My son and I have this ritual; if we see the moon, we repeat that rhyme "I see the moon and the moon sees me".  This assignment put that rhyme in my head.  

This weekend, we're enlisting your help in shortening our considerably lengthy bedtime routines by giving us a children's bedtime story in exactly 33 words.  It can be an old favorite reimagined or a work that is entirely your own.  We only ask that your story not leave our kids with visions of the boogie man dancing in their heads.  These tired bones thank you in advance. - See more at: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/#sthash.yN9EBgPT.dpuf

So The Lights Went Out

We were in the middle of a favorite episode of Call of The Wildman.  The Turtle Man had just cornered a fox in the hen house, live action, and was hollering for his 'team' to bring him the cage.  I was wondering if the fox had signed a release form to be on television.

All of a sudden, the lights went out.  We don't know why.  There were no storms in our area.  We suspected that either someone had crashed their car into a transformer, or some random squirrel chewed on the wrong wire and got cooked.  However it happened, we were in darkness.

Zane did not understand why the lights were out.  He was a little nervous. We patiently explained about the electricity and how it ran things and made the lights come on, etc.  Zane listened to us, and then asked us why the lights were out, and more importantly, why the tv wasn't on.  We explained again, or at least, Larry did.  I was busy looking for the various lanterns and candles to put a bit of light on the subject.   I have them stashed all over the house for these sorts of situations.  I used to have flashlights all over, but my husband is notorious for picking things up and putting them in different places, never to be found again.  Lanterns are less likely to wander off.

I also remembered that I had this little beauty:

Source: amazon.com via Tina on Pinterest

The thing about a lot of 'emergency' items is that they require batteries.  What is the very first thing that sells out when there's an emergency?  Batteries.  I have been in the middle of the battery aisle right before a hurricane was supposed to hit land--I was lucky to escape with my dignity.  That radio/flashlight/cell phone charger is not only solar powered, but there's also a handcrank.  I couldn't use the solar battery, since it was dark outside, but not to worry!  You use the crank, and it provides power.  It doesn't need batteries at all.  I found it on Amazon, along with a 'self-powered'  lantern.   I cranked it up, turned on the flashlight, and put it next to Zane so he had a light in the darkness. 

Then I picked it back up, and started to play with it. I was just too fascinated by my newest gadget. I even found the USB plug, and plugged my cell phone into it, just to see it charging while I turned the crank.  I was in that zone Larry and I call 'nerdvana', playing happily in the dark. 

I was almost sorry when the lights came back on.

RemembeRED: Why It's A Phobia

For this week’s memoir prompt, we’re going to let narrative take a backseat. Choose a moment from your personal history and mine it for sensory detail. Describe it to us in rich, evocative details. Let us breath the air, hear the heartbeat, the songs, feel the fabric and the touch of that moment. I will probably have nightmares about this one!


*scritch*

*scritch*

I open my eyes to darkness, pitch black, heart thudding in my chest.

What?

*scritch-scritch-scritch*

I wake up fully, and the darkness seems more ominous, more threatening.

*scritch-scritch*

It is a stealthy sound, tiptoeing. Furtive.

*scritch*

I am not afraid of the dark, I tell myself.

Is it coming closer? It is impossible to tell over the sound of my heart trying to escape from my chest.

*scritch*

My brain is frantically trying to identify that sound, that whispery scratching sound. If I don't move, maybe whatever is making that sound will go away.

*scritch-scritch-scritch-scritch*

I am not afraid of the dark, I tell myself. What concerned me was what might be IN the dark with me.

*scrit-scritch-scri---*

I have never been the kind of person to wait for approaching peril, and finally I can stand it no longer. I jump up in the darkness to find the light switch. I turn to confront the monster.

And freeze.

There, on the stack of printer paper NEXT to the bed, right NEXT to my pillow, right NEXT to where I had been sleeping...was a cockroach.

An extremely large cockroach.