My imagination works way too well. Us kids have always been very protected (from certain things), but even with out ever watching anyhting scary or ever hearing a ghost stoy, I still had my fill of being scared. Childrens minds are very strange things. I thought there were "monsters" downstairs in the storage room,, but when did I ever hear about "monsters"? Mom and Dad certainly didn't tell me anything about them, and I don't think Sarah did either. All us kids came up with our own "monster" stories by our self, without outside influence which is rather odd. When a very young child, about as far back as I can remember, I was deathly afraid of what I called "seagulls". They were these pelican looking things which lived under my bunk bed and would grab my feet or hands if they were sticking out of the bed. The dresses that hung in our closet were very frightening in the night, but those "monsters" I didn't give a name. As I got older the monsters left the room and were now downstairs in [gasp] the storage room. It was kind of odd, because I would pretend that I had made treaties with the "monsters". Treaties like "they wouldn't eat any part of me that was covered by a sheet", which meant I slept compleatly under a sheet which was awful it the summer so I changed the treaty to say "they wouldn't eat my head or my neck, and "they would only come up stairs after 10:00pm". Why didn't I just imagine that they didn't exist?
Even now my crazy immagination runs away with me. When my bedroom was upstairs I would listen intently to the sounds out side. At any slight noise I would jerk awake and lie stiffly for almost half an hour listening for any other noise, woundering what I would do if some one were to try to get in my window, and then paranoid me would get up and shut and lock my window and then get up and make sure all the doors were locked. Now that is down stairs it's gotten a little bit worse, cause when it's up stairs I know that mom or dad would hear if somehting went wrong, but down in the basement there's only Miss. Nana, and she sleeps through everything. I could go in her room and bounce on her bed and turn the radio on and she still wouldn't wake up. Sometimes I just lie awake wondering what I would do for different seinarios.
Karen's house is sort of frightening. Not her upstairs, but the basement. I used to like it. It was nice and clean and you can sit on the floor and it is cool in the summer, but then once I accidentally let my immagination go. No longer was it a nice place to sit and read, oh no, and the stairs....oh the stairs. Aweful things that don't let you look behind you as you run up them. And oh, what if some one or thing whould come up behind you as you are going up the stairs and grab you!!!! I don't think I could trust myself to scream. Something couldbe hidding down there. And the lights, you have to turn off most of the lights from below, and then run, run as fast as possible hoping that whatever is down in the basement wont get you. Oh, and should Karen happen to have her wheel chair in the way of the door.... I dare not think about it. Ok, so now you know Karen why I locked the basement door at night. :P And why I would run up the stairs and why you always had to tell me to go back down stairs and turn off the lights.
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Once a remote control car started spinning it's wheels for no reason. We actually found out it was because it was running out of batteries but it was really freaky. Plus when you are down stairs when people walk up stairs it make a creaking noise
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