The Unfamiliar Noises of the Night

Truly terrifying movies do not always involve a great deal of guts and gore. They do not have big hairy monsters chasing you down the streets of an abandoned town. The scariest shows need only have one character. This one character, need only sit all alone on a dark, clear night listening to the small sounds when the lights go out that seem infinitely magnified in both volume and meaning. The real terror, the real fear is the fear of the unknown. The unknown is enough to make even the sturdiest of veterans quake in their boots. On just such a dark evening there was a character sitting at home, listening to the strange, unfamiliar noises of the night. This lone figure was me.

Never before had I thought to curse my parents for installing so many windows with merely decorative curtains. Never before had I wished so much that my dog would cease his incessant barking and howling. Never before had I wished the moon would show itself in its full splendor. Never before had I wished my imagination was far less vivid. Never before had I been more tense, more cold...more afraid.

Every crunch of gravel outside sent electric shivers raking up and down my spine. Every roaring bark of the dog inside sent me leaping out of my skin. Every passing shadow that flitted near sent my head whipping around. Every moan of the wind sent me further into the security of the couch. Every thought of what evil lay in wait in the world sent my mind reeling.

My white knuckles clutched the blanket around me, holding so tight for so long. My fingers began to ache. My legs curled tighter to my stomach, tucking myself smaller and smaller. My body began to tense. My mouth pinched shut, daring not to breathe. My mind began to grow fuzzy.

More than anything I wanted to revert to the childish act of pulling the blanket over my head. More than anything I wanted to succumb to the urge to cry for my Mommy. More than anything I wanted to perform the oldest magic trick in the book and disappear.

But I dared not move; I dared not utter a single sound.

My whole body, tensed and ready for flight, quivered ceaselessly. I desperately wanted to end the agonizing silence and turn on the television- make some noise, provide some distraction- but how could I risk alerting anyone of my presence? Why wouldn't that dog cease its raging?

Just as I mustered the courage to extend my icy fingers and grope for the remote, my resolve crumbled. My concentration was shattered, my nerves severed and set free. It was more than just the crunch of gravel this time. This noise was so loud and rumbling- a grumbling unknown... but wait, not so unknown.

Could it be? Yes! It was! The garage door!

Leaping to my feet I hurtled to greet those that promised to end my petrified solitude. All thoughts gone of lurking strangers in the night. All thoughts gone of the drifting, morphing shadows.

Blame it on too many horror films or an overactive imagination. Blame it on...wait. Why was the dog barking?