Bizarre Fascination
It's cold outside today. Colder than I care to have it actually. Especially because in a few hours we will be heading down to our favorite amusement park to see if we can be thrilled by their various haunted houses and Halloween attractions: Cedar Point once more!
I'm not sure what my fascination is with horror. It disturbs me sometimes that my favorite authors at the tender age of seven were Dean Koontz and Stephen King.
Some of my strangest behaviors stem from scaring people or scaring myself.
For instance, when I was much younger, my cousins and I would play hide and seek. I'd always get to hide first, because I am the oldest, and I made the rules. Eventually our hide and seek games ended up taking us past nightfall, and that was of course my best hiding time of the day.
I took full advantage that I knew every nook and cranny of our property, and the dark looming barns situated a distance from my house.
After a while I became bored with the "regular" version of the game and decided to add my own twist to the fun. I would hide so well that they couldn't find me anywhere. I have this uncanny knack for being dead quiet. Seriously. It's eerie.
I remember being frightened as I did this, the darkness swallowing me up, making me invisible. At these times, I pretended that I was a ghost, so that the other ghosts would just accept me and leave me be. It wasn't all that frightening that way. Eventually they became so scared that something had happened to me they would run to the sanctuary of my well-lit farmhouse crying for my mom. I would of course get in trouble for making them cry.
Another antic that I played on my cousins was when I would spend the night. Knowing that my cousins were very susceptible to being scared, I would wait until we were tucked in. The whole house quiet and dark. I'd start with zombie rasping and then work my way up to cackles and ghost-moaning their names. This of course led to crying.
I was a disturbed child, I've told you this.
My cousins, poor guys. They could very easily take me out as they both out weigh me by 150lbs each. It is hard to conceive that these two big guys were turned to trembling goo by a waif of a girl at one time.
Good times.
Proud of being the mean older cousin? No. But I've already made my apologies for being such a brat to them, and they know that I love them dearly.
In retrospect, I realize the reason I developed the ability to be quiet, and ghost-like was because my stepdad was very afraid of the idea of ghosts. It gave me a certain pleasure to know that he had a weakness that I could overcome.
One of them will actually be watching the girls for us. There is no way that I could subject them to this type of entertainment. I made the mistake of letting Abby watch "IT" once, and well. That didn't work out so well. Now she shares my extreme and unnatural fear of clowns.
But the boy? He is coming along with me. He has already displayed the affinity for such amusements. That and I need to pass along this recessive fascination of horror on to someone.
posted by Kassi Gilbert @ 10:38 AM
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