When I was little, as with most little kids, I was easily scared. For some unknown reason, I was deathly afraid, at least during the night, that a burglar would break into my house and start to steal all of my things. When he would continue to look for more of my family’s things to take, he would come into my room. Upon seeing that I was still home, he would freak out because he did not want to get caught. He would become irrational and, without thinking, he would kill me. I know, it is a pretty weird thing for a kid to think of, but I did, and it seriously freaked me out.
Now that you have that pretext, I can tell you about a time that I legitimately thought that that exact situation was going to happen to me. Me and my dad were asleep, and in the middle of the night, I thought I heard a noise, so I did what every other did does when they get scared in the middle of the night; I ran into my dad’s room. Now that I look back, that first noise was probably just my house. I have an old house that creaks whenever it gets cold in the night, so it was most likely just that. Since I already had the mindset that someone was in my house, it definitely did not help that shortly after I ran into my dad’s room that I heard a loud bang come from my garage. Now that definitely was not my house creaking again. With the first noise and then this second, very loud noise, it is no stretch to say that I was very, very scared. My dad also heard the noise, so he told me to stay in the bed and he would go look to see what the noise was.
After he left, I was convinced that he was going to be gotten by whoever was in the garage, so that did not help my fear. Of course, he came back up after about 45 seconds and it turns out it was just a paint can that fell over in the garage.
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