Talk About Goosebumps

I visited NaBloPoMo again. Which, by the way, is misleading, because apparently every month is national blog posting month. But it gives me decent prompts sometimes, so I’m not going to argue.  Today this one jolted my memory and I’m going to share this story with you, as long as you promise that you won’t call those scary men in the white coats.  Deal? Ok.

The prompt: Have you ever had a mystical, supernatural, or religious experience? Tell us about it.

I’ve had some of each, I believe, but one shoved ahead in line and is jumping up and down, waving like a maniac, and if this was a classroom, I’d ignore it until it learned some classroom decorum, but since this is my brain, I’ll call on it to shut it up.

I need to preface this story by telling you that for as long as I can remember, my father has enjoyed trying to scare the pants off of me.  If a friend and I were watching a scary movie in the living room, he would jump in and scream at us at the quietest moment, when we were holding our breath and clutching each other for dear life.  If he went upstairs and knew I was heading up there soon, he would hide in the dark in my room, waiting to jump out at me.  Eventually, my brother joined in on this sport. So I tried to make sure I was the first one upstairs at night, because I didn’t trust either of them, and my poor little heart can only take so much.  I would also like to mention that I am not easily frightened or put off, but the very anticipation of something jumping out of me leaves me shaking in my boots.  Someone actually jumping out?  Consider my pants metaphorically peed.

You know that feeling of anticipation? When you know something’s going to scare you, but you just don’t know when?  When you’re holding your breath without realizing it and your heart is beating so hard you can hear it?  I experienced this feeling far too often in my own home.  Whenever I was upstairs, unsure if I was alone or not, I would cautiously open bedroom doors, throw open the shower or closets, trying to scare any potential intruders before they could scare me.  It wasn’t a constant thing – I don’t want you to think I wandered around my house in fear.  It was only occasionally, but enough to leave me wary at times.

One night I was sitting in my room on my computer. My computer faced a corner of my room, so my back was to my entire room, door and all. It was very quiet on the top floor, and all I could hear was myself click-clacking away on the keyboard.  Then, I heard footsteps enter my room, slowly but steadily.  Knowing they were trying to be quiet, I decided to be coy and pretend I didn’t hear them.  My plan was to scare them before they could get the chance to scare me.  I stared straight ahead at the screen and waited as the footsteps got closer and closer.  The anticipation, fear and excitement were all bottling up inside me, ready to explode.  Finally, I felt someone standing right behind me and felt their heavy, warm breath on the back of my neck.  Mustering up all the courage I could, I whipped around to face my attacker and yelled, BOO!

To an empty room.

Confused, I darted out into the hall to see if they had somehow silently ran out of my room with impossible speed.  Seeing no one there, I used every brave bone in my body to throw open my closet doors and quickly pull up my bed skirt to try to find someone.  Anyone.  After searching the entire top floor, I realized that there was definitely nobody up there with me.

At least no one that I could see.


~ by Valerie Anne on 04/07/2011.

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