October Eighth; In The Month of Fear-Fear the Dark

Not always.


Its no secret that I live in the dirt road where I grew up. Living on a dirt road out in the country with only four homes at the time, meant no street lights. When it got dark, it was dark, especially the areas where the road went through wooded areas. One summer evening I stayed too late at the farthest house down the road. I was having a grand time and time got away from me. I had to walk up that dark, spooky, dirt road in the dark. I walked very slowly, trying to not make any sounds at all as if stepping on a stick, kicking a rock or allowing my foot steps to make a sound would have brought unspeakable evil out of the dark. At times having an over active imagination is not a good thing.


At one point during my youth, during the summer and just as we were all settling in bed for the night I heard a noise in my dark bedroom. It sounded as if something was flying about my room. I did what any good daughter who is afraid does. I yelled for dad. He came to my room, opened the door and turned on the light, taking his time. Seeing nothing he turned off the light, closed the door and went back to bed. Not long after he had returned to bed, the sound began again. I covered my head and yelled. Dad came, found nothing, and went back to bed. The fourth time I yelled, he was beyond frustrated. He shoved open the door and flipped on the light in one quick move. A large bull bat flew across the room. Telling me to keep my head covered he and mo managed to get the bat out of my room. I listened the the sounds of them struggling to get the bat out of the house for long moments. Finally, all sounds quieted down, I heard the front door closing and dad’s approach. He opened my door and apologized for getting angry. All good dad, all good.


As a teenager, I had someone I considered a friend take advantage of my trust, my naivete and that danged over active imagination. She had me believing she was able to talk with the departed and my departed relatives were very unhappy with me. The only way to appease them was to give her many, many things. School supplies, junk food, the list was long. I was terrified to go to bed at night out of fear the departed were going to come for me in the night due to some small infraction or other. It was only many years later when I happened to meet her in a store that she told me it had all been a joke. Some joke.


When my son was a toddler he had a small stuffed bear that also played a lullaby. His dad, my husband, also loved to watch horror movies. One Tuesday he was off work and had rented the first Chucky movie. I did my best to stay out of the room with the television but still caught brief parts of the movie. Thursday evening comes around and I’m running a bath for my son. Almost the moment I start the water the phone rings. There was maybe at best an inch of water in the tub, my son was not. I ran to answer the phone, told the caller I had to call them back and went back to the tub. My son had managed to dip the bear into the water saying it needed a bath as well. I took the bear away, got my son bathed and in the bed. I took the damp bear out onto the back porch and using a skirt hanger, hung the bear up to dry. I go back inside a very quiet house and pick up the book I wanted to finish reading. I began to hear an odd noise. Following it, I see the tiny heart on that bear slowly fading off and on and this weird shorting out sound coming from the thing. I take it down from the hanger and place it on a rack so that nothing was touching any pressure point to make it play music. I go back inside, closing and locking the back door. Within a few moments I’m hearing the sounds again. Glancing toward the back door I see my big kitchen knives on top of the refrigerator just inside the back door. Yep. In my mind I am seeing this small blue bear bursting through the door, grabbing one of the bigger knives coming at me screaming something about me allowing my son to get him wet. Fun times. I still avoid any sort of horror movie.

Approximately forty years ago, I was working in a manufacturing plant, in a small town, during the afternoon shift. If I recall correctly I got off work at eleven at night. I had my own car but this particular day I had allowed someone to take me to work and borrow my car on the promise they would be there to pick me up after work. They weren’t. I waited for them to show and realized they were not coming by the time there was no one left to give me a ride and I had no one to call. This was well before cell phones. So I did something out of desperation. I walked.


I lived about two miles or so from where I worked. In a mobile home park out in a rural area. I wasn’t happy but I wasn’t too distraught as I walked. The night was comfortable, quiet and without issue. Right up until I was within a quarter of a mile from where I lived. A car drove past me, with the windows down I could hear several male voices. Up until now I had not been passed by any vehicles. Within minutes the car passed me going in the other direction. Now I was concerned. Almost immediately they drove by again. Each time they drove a little more slowly. As soon as they were out of sight, I stepped off the roadway into the woods. I stepped behind the largest tree I could find, squatted down and waited. Within moments, the car went by again much more slowly. I waited and sure enough, it came by one last time. Did they have bad intentions? Were they attempting to intimidate and frighten me? Did they have worse in mind? I never found out, didn’t want to know. When they finally stopped driving by I hurried home and inside. My car parked outside, my then room mate sound asleep.


I do love to be out on a clear night and watch the night sky. Watching for shooting stars or even unidentified objects. I remember late one night when we had went out to rescue a family member whose car had broken down. We stood with them while awaiting for the towing service to arrive. While we waited we watched as a meteor shower show took place above us. It was an amazing sight.Ā  My dream is to see the Northern Lights or be out in some wide open area and see into the expanse of space. Simply to sit in the night and soak in the experience.

Back before I was let go from work, I purchased a medium size fire pit.Last summer I would fire it up ever so often and sit out back in the night, watching the fire and the shadows dancing about. I would sit out there with a cup of coffee and a flashlight. It was interesting how many critters of the woods would come visiting even with the fire burning. I watched racoon and possum come strolling across the yard and up to see if there was any cat food left.


I listened to the bullfrogs down at the pond and the thousands of crickets and other insects singing. Several times I would hear larger mammals close by which never came into the firelight or close enough for the flashlight. Still, it was incredibly peaceful to sit in the swing and enjoy the peace the dark brought.


Over the passing of time, I have learned a lot about the dark. I have learned a lot about fear. I have learned to not watch anything that will set off the fear factors in my over imaginative brain. Looking back, I see and understand mistakes that I made, and correct moves as well. As in that night time walk. I’m glad I didn’t ignore the obvious and took action to hide. There were homes close enough that for all they knew I had gone inside one of them. I’ve learned to pay more attention to red flags. Not everyone is your friend. You do not need to give in to all of their demands to retain a friendship that isn’t real. No one deserves to be treated poorly or allow and even accept extortion. The dark can and does hide bad, scary things, but it also has moments of quiet, calm and peace. It isn’t the enemy.

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 animals, education, Imagine, life's journey, memories, Uncategorized, wildlife and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

12 Responses to October Eighth; In The Month of Fear-Fear the Dark

  1. Dark is dark but that helps when I walk in a peaceful way in the evening. Love your writing.

  2. John says:

    Great post, Rebecca. Your roommate was very disrespectful, wow! Isn’t it great waking up to a bat in your bedroom! The same thing happened to me a few years ago in Michigan. I lived by myself at that time too. The clicks the bat made must have awoken me, I grabbed a pillow and knocked it down to the ground then took it outside where it belongs. Good night!

  3. Great post, Rebecca! I am glad Dan does not work nights for a until next week. šŸ˜²

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