This week's homework was difficult for me. Not because I couldn't think of anything to write...but because I could think of too much to write. I finally narrowed it down...so I hope you enjoy the ride @missy, @rambo, @lyxzen, and @charmaine.
"Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark"
If you were a kid or teen in the 90's, you've probably heard of this series of books. Some of the stories were silly...and some were just downright frightening. For me, they were real.
I'm not talking about this one:
Because really, who would believe their wife was a horse (unless they're tripping balls of course).
But the others....they were real to me. Let me take you back to my childhood bedroom. The walls painted a soft green, with a border of wall paper at about chair rail height. I had a captains bed with girly sheets (except during my New Kids On The Block phase, but we won't talk about that right now), and modest furnishings that matched.
I also had a closet...a tall closet that stretched from floor to ceiling.
I was already pretty afraid of the dark. I had night terrors and would have realistic nightmares that would make Wes Craven run for the hills. But that closet...I still remember exactly how it felt, how it sounded....I still get chills.
*scritch...scratch*
I didn't have a cat...my dog would sleep in my grandma's room down the hall...but sometimes at night there it would be....
*scritch....scratch.....scrritttch...*
I would close my eyes tighter and burrow into the safety of my covers. Behind my closed eyes though, I could see things. Things hanging there. Or things looking at me, waiting for me.
I would imagine that the person who had my room before me had hung himself, and the sound I was hearing was his toenails dragging across the inside of my closet door.
*scrrrrritch*
Then I would remember...no one had owned our house before....and my eyes would fly open as I searched the darkness for the source of the sound.
I would tell my grandma about the noises and she would swear that it was just the house settling, or maybe it was the sound of a tree branch around the house. As a fairly intelligent child I could see her point...but there were no trees around our small house....
The next night I would prepare myself to be brave. Teddy bear in hand, nightlight in the on position, extra blankets to ward off all things evil.
*scritch, scratch*
Did I hear it again? It's coming from the crawl space...I was sure of it. There was an access panel in my closet wasn't there? What if....what if someone was living in there?!
I would stare at the faint outline of the access panel in the top of my closet. The outline barely visible above the clothes and shelf hanging there.
*scratch*
I was scared to blink...even just for a second...just in case blinking was an invitation for whatever it was to come closer.
*scritch....scccrrraatch...*
I would swallow hard, my mouth so dry it felt almost impossible to complete the motion. My eyes burning from being held open so long, spots swimming before my eyes as they begged to close for just a second.
*sccritch...tap...tap...*
Well that ones new! I remember sitting up with a start, a scream caught in my throat as I was sure a dozen faces were looking at me from the depths of my closet.
The tapping turned to rapping and quickly turned to knocking, my every heartbeat matching the insistent pounding as if someone desperately wanted to get in my room!
*knock...knock...KNOCK*
No matter how hard I closed my eyes or covered my ears it would be there.
*KNOCK*
On my closet door...coming from the inside! I could see their outlines now as they were staring at me, waiting for me to answer their knock.
I...
have to finish this later...it's late here and there's someone knocking at my door...
