Stephen King is my friend. He just doesn’t know it. Let’s face it, he just doesn’t know me. But he saved me, nonetheless. I grew up in the housing projects. Enough said, right? Want a dream killer? Grow up in an environment that seems to prep you for prison rather than for college.
I was plain and quiet, let me translate that for you, I was bully meat. I earned straight A’s. Need any more translation than that? Even so, I was overwhelmed by hostile surroundings that had me seeking shelter in my bedroom. Reading was my preferred outlet. I guess I needed pretend horror to help me deal with my reality.
Romance stories were nice with all the hugging and kissing and blending of bodies, but it was horror that stuck with me. It was the scary stories that chilled my bones and kept me wide-eyed alert at night. I loved and still love horror stories.
Stephen King offered me the best get out of hell free tickets. Later on I would find other conductors on my horror train. Anne Rice, Peter Straub and Toni Morrison all could deliver the requisite chills, but Stephen King was always my favorite. Indulging in those chapters was like consuming a satisfying meal. I only hope to be able to do the same.
Let me just say this again. It is an honor to be compared to him.
When my husband goes on a business trip, I’m usually all alone in a big and old house. It’s been around for more than a century and I suspect folks have died in it. That’s my suspicion and I’m sticking to it.
Late at night, I hear things. If my dog, Cherie, doesn’t respond to those noises then I know everything’s alright. But there are times when she will look up at me as if I am supposed to investigate. Well, I know then that we have a problem. Because “I’m” not going anywhere.
Her response to fear is to piddle and run. That should be my response too!
Ultimately I will investigate the strange sound, but with a good deal of caution. I’m not looking for anything natural, you understand. I’m seeking out a supernatural source. I’m looking to see if a humanlike shadow will pinch off wall, or if the woman in the mirror will morph into a fiend, or worse will she suddenly stop matching my actions! By the way, was that the wind or a howling scream?
I think I hear someone scratching at the door. Hold on a sec. I will be right back…aaaah!