Crazy

           I know, it seems crazy and stupid. Yes, I know I'm a full-grown adult and this is something that only affects children, but I'm still scared of the dark. I know it's irrational, but you're a psychiatrist and that's what I'm paying you for. I mean, what normal adult, other than me (I'm normal?), do you know who's scared of the dark. Just, I see figures in the dark, monsters, ghosts, fairies, gremlins, and all kinds of things. So, I wear my beads at night, say the rosery, turn on the light, but then there's nothing there. It's always been there at night, since I was a child.

           See once, in the middle of the night, I heard a sound in the garage underneath my bed, but it wasn't the garage, it was something else. See, I used to think kids were skateboarding in the middle of the night, but it was just the rain on the roof, but this was different. It was a small, squiking sound, like a mouse, but consistant. All animals (as far as I know) need to breathe, so they couldn't maintain that level of squiking. So, I knocked on Mommy and Daddy's door and my Daddy woke up and I told him about the noise. He rolled his eyes and asked if I needed to sleep with them again, but I told him, no. What I needed was for him to go down to the garage and find out what was going on. 

           He didn't want to, but I insisted, so we went downstairs and opened the inside door to the garage door and we saw flashlights coming into the garage and my dad yelled, “Hey,” and then there were loud banging noises and my daddy closed the door and went to the telephone to call the cops. I was scared and hung onto Daddy real tight. Then, Daddy told me to go up to Mommy and lock the door behind me and tell her what happened. 

           So, I ran up the stairs as fast as my little legs would take me and I ran into Mommy and Daddy's room and shut the door, loud, and locked it. Mommy asked what was going on and I told her about the flashlights, the loud banging noises, and where Daddy was. Mommy and I went into their bathroom and we locked the door. I wanted to cry and did so, but not loud, because Mommy said that might attract the intruders. Mommy thought for a moment and shut off the lights. Now, this may sound perverse, but it wasn't. Mommy squeezed me into her breasts to try to protect me and I could feel her heart beat. See, there were no cell phones back then, so neither of us had a way to make sure Daddy was safe and we were both scared. 

           Then, we heard more loud pops, like popcorn, but sharper, and some thuds on the floor. I was trying to keep quiet the way Mommy told me to, but I couldn't help it. I was scared and started crying and Mommy, though she tried to hold it in, starting crying, too. Then, there was silence; no footsteps, no wood creaking, no carpet shifting, just silence. Then, after a few minutes, we both heard sirens. The police and other sirens had arrived; paramedics? 

           We hear the doorbell ring and knocks at the front door.  The police identify themselves and then, there's silence. Are the police going to have to break in? Do they know the people are trying to come in through the garage? What's happening? Then, there's chatter and we hear footsteps coming up the stairs and knocking on the bathroom door. We wait, not knowing if it's the burglars or the police, and wait . . . .

*

           This was a bad idea, but I need the money. Goddamn it, I need the money. I smile, a fake smile, and welcome them. I ask how long they'll be staying and they say for a week, typical. We ask if they'll need be given baths, nails trimmed, hair cut, the usual shit. We have to have copies of their rabbies forms and dog licenses, typical. 

           But, when I was a young boy, something with a dog happened. See, I was six years old and our neighbors had dogs, big dogs, and a fenced in yard. That way, they could let their dogs out to go potty without having to take them on leashes. Makes sense. But, one time there was a squirrel in our yard and the two dogs were barking at this squirrel, but they were able to jump the fence to attack the squirrel and the squirrel got away and me and my sister were swinging on our swings in the backyard. And, when we saw the dogs jump the fence, we got scared, so we ran to get back in the back door, but for some reason the back door got locked. Maybe Mommy or Daddy locked it since they didn't know we were in the backyard. See, dogs can sense fear, it's one of their instincts. So, the dogs ran towards me and my sister and one of them bit me on my hand. Then, the door opened and we both ran in and shut the door behind us. My hand had a little scar on it. Then, my mom and dad said we had to talk to the next door neighbors and call the police. In a few minutes, I heard the sirens and the police asked me what happened and I told them about the squirrel and . . .oh, yeah, you already know the story. 

           So, then animal control comes and takes the two dogs away and my parents and the next door neighbors are yelling at each other real loud and then my mommy and daddy tell me we have to go to the emergency room.  And I think, The emergency room? For this little scratch? That doesn't make sense. But, we go there and we all wait in the waiting room. Then, the nurse asks me some stupid questions like my name, when I was born, and other stupid things. 

           Then, they call up a vet. That's strange, I'm not a dog. But, the doctors say the dogs don't have rabbies. The nurse washes my wound, puts triple anti-biotic ointment, gouge, and weird tape on my hands and we go home. Then, my mommy and daddy said the neighbors should have to pay this bill, since their dogs bit me. 

*

           Then, back at the kennel/vet, I hear the dogs crying, trying to get back to their owners when I take them away. I stay about a foot away on the leash since I'm still scared of dogs, but the rent won't pay itself. So, I work with them and put on my fake smile and am polite to everyone, even the dogs and cats. We also have to find out if the animals are scared of thunderstorms. I wonder what would happen if hotels asked humans if they were scared of animals? Write about someone facing their greatest fear.

           I know, it seems crazy and stupid. Yes, I know I'm a full-grown adult and this is something that only affects children, but I'm still scared of the dark. I know it's irrational, but you're a psychiatrist and that's what I'm paying you for. I mean, what normal adult, other than me (I'm normal?), do you know who's scared of the dark. Just, I see figures in the dark, monsters, ghosts, fairies, gremlins, and all kinds of things. So, I wear my beads at night, say the rosery, turn on the light, but then there's nothing there. It's always been there at night, since I was a child.

           See once, in the middle of the night, I heard a sound in the garage underneath my bed, but it wasn't the garage, it was something else. See, I used to think kids were skateboarding in the middle of the night, but it was just the rain on the roof, but this was different. It was a small, squiking sound, like a mouse, but consistant. All animals (as far as I know) need to breathe, so they couldn't maintain that level of squiking. So, I knocked on Mommy and Daddy's door and my Daddy woke up and I told him about the noise. He rolled his eyes and asked if I needed to sleep with them again, but I told him, no. What I needed was for him to go down to the garage and find out what was going on. 

           He didn't want to, but I insisted, so we went downstairs and opened the inside door to the garage door and we saw flashlights coming into the garage and my dad yelled, “Hey,” and then there were loud banging noises and my daddy closed the door and went to the telephone to call the cops. I was scared and hung onto Daddy real tight. Then, Daddy told me to go up to Mommy and lock the door behind me and tell her what happened. 

           So, I ran up the stairs as fast as my little legs would take me and I ran into Mommy and Daddy's room and shut the door, loud, and locked it. Mommy asked what was going on and I told her about the flashlights, the loud banging noises, and where Daddy was. Mommy and I went into their bathroom and we locked the door. I wanted to cry and did so, but not loud, because Mommy said that might attract the intruders. Mommy thought for a moment and shut off the lights. Now, this may sound perverse, but it wasn't. Mommy squeezed me into her breasts to try to protect me and I could feel her heart beat. See, there were no cell phones back then, so neither of us had a way to make sure Daddy was safe and we were both scared. 

           Then, we heard more loud pops, like popcorn, but sharper, and some thuds on the floor. I was trying to keep quiet the way Mommy told me to, but I couldn't help it. I was scared and started crying and Mommy, though she tried to hold it in, starting crying, too. Then, there was silence; no footsteps, no wood creaking, no carpet shifting, just silence. Then, after a few minutes, we both heard sirens. The police and other sirens had arrived; paramedics? 

           We hear the doorbell ring and knocks at the front door.  The police identify themselves and then, there's silence. Are the police going to have to break in? Do they know the people are trying to come in through the garage? What's happening? Then, there's chatter and we hear footsteps coming up the stairs and knocking on the bathroom door. We wait, not knowing if it's the burglars or the police, and wait . . . .

*

           This was a bad idea, but I need the money. Goddamn it, I need the money. I smile, a fake smile, and welcome them. I ask how long they'll be staying and they say for a week, typical. We ask if they'll need be given baths, nails trimmed, hair cut, the usual shit. We have to have copies of their rabbies forms and dog licenses, typical. 

           But, when I was a young boy, something with a dog happened. See, I was six years old and our neighbors had dogs, big dogs, and a fenced in yard. That way, they could let their dogs out to go potty without having to take them on leashes. Makes sense. But, one time there was a squirrel in our yard and the two dogs were barking at this squirrel, but they were able to jump the fence to attack the squirrel and the squirrel got away and me and my sister were swinging on our swings in the backyard. And, when we saw the dogs jump the fence, we got scared, so we ran to get back in the back door, but for some reason the back door got locked. Maybe Mommy or Daddy locked it since they didn't know we were in the backyard. See, dogs can sense fear, it's one of their instincts. So, the dogs ran towards me and my sister and one of them bit me on my hand. Then, the door opened and we both ran in and shut the door behind us. My hand had a little scar on it. Then, my mom and dad said we had to talk to the next door neighbors and call the police. In a few minutes, I heard the sirens and the police asked me what happened and I told them about the squirrel and . . .oh, yeah, you already know the story. 

           So, then animal control comes and takes the two dogs away and my parents and the next door neighbors are yelling at each other real loud and then my mommy and daddy tell me we have to go to the emergency room.  And I think, The emergency room? For this little scratch? That doesn't make sense. But, we go there and we all wait in the waiting room. Then, the nurse asks me some stupid questions like my name, when I was born, and other stupid things. 

           Then, they call up a vet. That's strange, I'm not a dog. But, the doctors say the dogs don't have rabbies. The nurse washes my wound, puts triple anti-biotic ointment, gouge, and weird tape on my hands and we go home. Then, my mommy and daddy said the neighbors should have to pay this bill, since their dogs bit me. 

*

      Then, back at the kennel/vet, I hear the dogs crying, trying to get back to their owners when I take them away. I stay about a foot away on the leash since I'm still scared of dogs, but the rent won't pay itself. So, I work with them and put on my fake smile and am polite to everyone, even the dogs and cats. We also have to find out if the animals are scared of thunderstorms. I wonder what would happen if hotels asked humans if they were scared of animals?