My kid is afraid to sleep when she doesn’t feel well. She’s afraid she won’t wake up. Since we spent the evening re-arranging the living room and encountered a lost tribe of dustbunnies that had us both sneezing our heads off, this was a particular issue last night.
She makes traps, too. Any ball of string or yarn or rope that comes into her possession is likely to be strung all about her room in a wild cat’s cradle to “catch” anyone who might come in her room. I don’t ask who “anyone” might be. And I don’t make her take it down instantly. I guess we all have our own fears.
Mine was monsters. (Honesty compels me to note that “was” is not the correct tense for my fear of monsters. >_> ) I would lie in bed thinking of ways to trick them so they would not eat me. One method was the fake bite. I’d heard that predators won’t eat carrion, so if I had a fake gory wound and lay really still all night…
Another idea was the bed with a hollow in the middle. I’d lay in the hollow and pull the covers up and fluff the pillows and the monsters would think there was no one to eat because the bed was flat and made.
Pretty sure I had others–I spent a lot of time lying in bed afraid of monsters. When I went upstairs in the dark, I would scrunch up my shoulders and drop my chin so if a vampire pounced from above he couldn’t get to my neck. I always made sure the closet was locked before night fell. After the night my dog lay on the foot of my bed growling at the closet door (guess who didn’t sleep a wink that night?) I always put a chair in front of it too.
When I went to bed I took a flying leap from the doorway to the bed so the monsters under the bed couldn’t get me. When I was sixteen and living in a trailer, I would open the door from as far away as I could, then take a flying leap in so the monsters under the trailer couldn’t get me. Now I don’t jump on my bed, but sometimes when the night is unfriendly, I have to force myself to turn my face to the wall and drag my mind to unicorns and rainbows (actually usually boysmut) to forget the idea that there’s something there.
You may think me silly, but hey. It’s one of the perils of a writer’s imagination. Something could be there.
So what were you afraid of? What did you do to stay safe? Do you still do it?
Ooh! Good distinction! Yes, I was/am the same. Out in the woods at night? Love it! In my room–or worse, my closet!–after dark? Let me out of here!
I’m late, but…that flying leap thing? I still do that sometimes. Or I crawl over the end of the bed (no footboard or whatever that’s called) so the things under the bed won’t get me. So glad I’m not the only one!
(I don’t like the dark outside either.)