Wednesday, June 1, 2011

Things That Go Bang In The Night

 Yesterday while locking myself in the dining room in attempts to save myself from a honey bee the size of a humming bird that had found its way into my living room, I was reminded of a teenage memory.  The situation was completely different but the lack of judgment and rational thought, due to fear, was much the same.

When I was sixteen I was home alone on a winter night while my parents were out for a late dinner and my sister was over at a friend’s house.  I was lying on my parent’s bed talking on the phone to my cousin. The T.V. was on and I was giggling about teenager things not aware of much of anything.  A noise loud enough to get my attention coming from the far end of the house brought my conversation to a halt. I shut the T.V. off and told my cousin to be silent for a moment, that I had heard something.  I listened carefully and the sound returned.  The sound was a loud bang like a cupboard or closet door.  Almost immediately my mind began the process of shutting down.  I hung up the phone with no, “goodbye, there is someone in my house, alert the police”. I got up like a zombie and walked slowly to the hallway to get a better understanding of where the bang had come from.  It happened again and it came from the front entrance of the house.  It didn’t sound like the front door opening as if someone was getting home from my family.  It was as though the pantry or closet door had opened and closed.  It became apparent that it was not the wind or a draft opening and closing the door/cupboard when the bang became a continuous banging over and over again.  My mind at that point was flashing a mind is now shutting down message and I began to make irrational choices to save myself. 

Firstly I decided to put a face to my “killer” in the form of a man wearing a mask.  It was a toss up between “Jason” and “Michael Myers”.  The killer and I were located at opposite ends of the long, one level house we lived in.  HE was in the front entrance and I was in the back hallway with three bedrooms on either side of me.  I wandered into my sister’s bedroom in search of weapons.  Gathering weapons was a smart move even though my mind was turned off.  The weapons I gathered, however, reinforced that my mind was indeed nothing but a blinking light.  It was as though I was outside of my body watching myself making these ridiculous choices.  I opened my sister’s junk drawer and out of all the sharp items I chose a pair of kindergarten scissors with round tips! They were really small but I grabbed them anyway!  On the way out I felt I needed more weapons in case the scissors didn’t work (go figure). Let me tell what I did not grab.  I did  not grab a lamp that would have shattered nicely on the killer's head knocking him out cold nor did I grab the ultimate weapon of choice; the baseball bat my sister had leaning up against her dresser.  I grabbed a tennis racket case, not the racket, the case and a paper mache penguin that my sister bought from EARL’S FAMILY RESTAURANT. I am not sure what my intentions were with those items or if in the current state of mind thought I could do any damage with them.

The killer continued to bang around near the front entrance.  Somewhere through the mess off disconnected wires in my brain I managed to conjure up a plan of escaping.  I slowly made my way into the kitchen with my kindergarten scissors, tennis racket case, and paper penguin ready for action if it came to that.  My game plan was about as ludicrous as my weapons.  I was going to make a break for the front door basically right into the killer’s arms. Looking back I realize I was out of my right mind putting that plan into action.  I didn’t even consider using the patio door directly to my left or the side door directly to my right!  As the banging became louder, my adrenaline kicked in. With my weapons in toe I started running as fast as I could towards the front door and the killer. My heart thumped in my throat and I ran like lightning towards the deafening banging sound.  I crossed through the doorway into the front entrance with the door inches from my grasp and an image jumped out in front of me and grabbed my shoulders.  A shrill of fright escaped my lips, my knees gave out, and my weapons crashed to the floor.  I covered my face and slid down the wall frightened.  A thunderous laugh escaped the killer’s mouth.  The laughter was familiar.  My eyes flew open and my sister stood above me waving the tennis racket case in my face laughing hysterically.  My brain rebooted at that time and when things became clear my fear turned into rage.  I tried to chase her down and pull her hair out but she was much stronger than me and I ended up in a head lock.  None the less, it wasn’t the first or the last time she pulled evil pranks on me. Am I too old to get even?

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