April Tenth; Fear, That Once Was

The weather prognosticators say it is going to rain today, the sky in its overcast state seeks to confirm that prediction. The birds however, are singing in joyous abandon. A couple of the feral- not so feral, cats are out back exploring the differences made in the mowed yard. One is watching something in the pile of leaves at the edge of the yard. My hope is that it is not a snake, but I wouldn’t be surprised. 

But fear. 

I’m not going to go into a discussion of what is going on around us. Important that it is. I may write about that later today, for now though, I think I will take a walk down memory lane. Way back to my early teens, when life should have been easier. 

As a somewhat over protected youth, one who was slow to mature to what proper society expects, I was gullible in my naivete state. I preferred the freedom of the creative mind over structure. But, even that creative, overly imaginative mind played against me here. 

There was a girl I called friend, we spent hours at each other’s home, enjoying the fleeting moments of our youth. Then, for some reason, things changed. In hindsight, maybe this was brought about by jealousy. Maybe it was meant to be control. Maybe could go on forever, especially since her answer to why, many years later was “It was a joke, I thought you knew that” was not the real answer, but a cover story. 

It wasn’t unusual to hear of or find oneself a part of attempts at seances or contacting the spirits at that time. To walk into the restroom to hear the chants, to see the huddled groups on the athletic field, coats covering them as they seek the dark. This friend, brought that to my home. 

She lead me to believe through supposed seances in my closet, that she had reached my family members who had passed on before. They were demanding that I share various things with her. Candy, cookies, school supplies, all had to be handed over, or they would come for me in the night, taking me to where they were. A place they promised I did not want to be. The longer this went on, the more emboldened she became and the angrier the spirits grew.I feared the night.

I held a deep dread of time to go to bed. I would gather all of the many stuffed animals I owned and line them around me, a false sense of protection. Surely the spirits couldn’t get past this wall. Every morning, the many stuffed toys would be lined up against the far side of the bed. In hindsight, I knew mom had to have been coming in and moving them, but at the time, I feared the spirits were laughing at my feeble attempts for protection. Many nights, I would lay in bed, trembling as I stared into the dark, waiting. Wondering if this would be the night they came. 

Then, she pushed her extortion too far. She demanded a dress that my mother had made for me, that would in no way fit her. Knowing that would be something mom would miss, I asked about the giving and she laughed gently and said no. Reminding me that it would in no way fit. When I told my so called friend, and that I had mentioned it to mom, maybe she thought I had told her the entire story, which I hadn’t, but the seances stopped, she stopped visiting, she pretty much disappeared. As did the spirits. It did take a very long time though, for my fears to ease.

But then, on the funny side of fear.

My son was a toddler when the first Chucky movie was released. My husband loved that type movie but I avoided watching them, you’ll soon understand why. 

One afternoon, back when you could do this, my husband rented the movie, Chucky. As he watched it, I sat in the kitchen reading and trying to avoid watching any of the movie. My son, was already in bed asleep. Though I missed most of it, I saw enough bits and pieces. 

Two days later, my husband was at work, and I was preparing my son’s bath. The phone rang and I turned off the water and told my son to wait a minute. I ran to answer the phone, told the caller I would call them back and in less than five minutes, I was back in the bathroom. I had been gone just long enough for my son to dunk his stuffed bear, one that played a tune, into the water. Why? Because it needed a bath too. I set the bear aside and got my son his bath and got him into bed.

I took the bear out to the back porch and hung it up to dry. Hoping that it hadn’t been ruined. I sat down at the kitchen table to read. The house was dead quiet.Suddenly, I began to hear a truly odd sound. I listened closely and realized it was coming from my back porch, where I had hung the bear. I walked to the door and looked out to see the small, red heart on the toy blinking oddly as the sound of what was supposed to be music cane through the closed door.I figured the hanger I was using was managing to push the activation button so I went out and took the bear from the skirt hanger and placed it flat on an old bread rack like you see delivery people use in stores. I then walked back into the house, closed and locked the door. Returning to my book I put the toy out of my mind.Then it began to happen again. That eerie sound, slipping through the closed door and into my head. In my head, I’m seeing this small, blue, stuffed bear bursting through the door, grabbing one of my big knives that was on top of the refrigerator and coming at me screaming “You let him get me wet!!!!” 

Yes, I realized it was the water attempting to short out the electronics, but at that moment in time. In the quiet of the house, an over active imagination to begin with, zoomed into hyper drive.Later, once it fully dried, the bear was fine. But I found ways to never be in the house when my husband put any of that type movie on to watch.

Not the bear from the story, but the first stuffed animal picture I found in my files.

About rebecca s revels

A writer, a photographer, a cancer survivor. An adventurer of the mild kind, a lover of the simple pleasures such as long walks and chocolate. A Christian unashamed of my faith and a friend who is dependable and will encourage readily. Author of three self published books with more waiting to find their way to paper. An advocate of good things, a fighter against wrongs.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.