Scary

Dark terrified me, long ago. I imagined grasping, clutching shadows full of malice, death head skulls leering, heart stopping, breath crushing, soul sucking evil. All vague and peering, the ambiguity loomed large, accompanied by weird, horror movie music and unidentifiable house noises.

Halloween brought it all into the light, where it became fake scary, and fun. It wasn't witches or Jack-o-lanterns, or even ghosts, that haunted me. My brothers and parents assuring me that ghosts couldn't hurt me never addressed my inchoate unease. I'd never considered they would hurt me exactly, but that they were watching me, or that I might actually see them. I had nothing to fear but fear itself, no comfort there since that was the problem. At Halloween, I felt most safe, even in the dark. Perhaps because I didn't feel alone there for once. Or maybe even then my tendency to be calm when everyone else is frightened kicked in.

I walked straight into my fearful darkness when I was about 20, banishing it. Oh, I could still get myself easily spooked living alone and hearing building creaks, for long after, but that was transient and ephemeral. Can't remember the last time. Having a cat in the place helps.

Because if I hear a strange sound in the night, it's no doubt Moby prowling. Guarding us from those eeries. Most apartments, they lurk in the halls. In this one, they hide in the water heater closet. He scratched to scare them away last night at about 2. One day, he'd been Mrrk-ing at the door, and I opened it a bit. Moby stared at it in fascinated horror, as though I'd cracked open a gate to hell. But he crouched guard bravely, until I closed it again.

I will be alone here on Halloween, D gone to the wedding in San Diego. But I have a black cat on patrol. Alert to any disturbance.