A Scary Story that Explains A Lot
When I was 10 years old, my mom asked me to grab some chicken out of the deep freezer in the basement.
“But all the lightbulbs are burned out,” she said. “So don’t be scared that it’s dark down there.”
I grew up in a house that had been built by my great-grandparents during World War II. There was nothing finished about the basement – it might even have a dirt floor. Needless to say, it was creepy enough on its own – but with burned out lightbulbs? Downright terrifying.
But I trusted my mother, so I tiptoed down the dark stairs, turned the corner, felt my way to the deep freezer and slowly lifted the lid.
I reached in to feel around for the frozen chicken, and instead, I felt what appeared to be a human head. And a body. And just as I realized what I was touching, the lid of the deep freezer flew all the way open, and the man inside started pulling me into the freezer.
I screamed like I’ve never screamed before.
And my brother laughed.
That’s right. My 12 year old brother could not stop laughing.
He had spent hours in preparation. He unscrewed every single lightbulb in the basement. He unscrewed the lightbulb in the freezer. He even took the time to clear out the deep freezer so that he would have room to lie down inside.
He put on long underwear and layered clothing – just in case he was in there for awhile.
And when he asked my mom to please send me down to the basement to get some chicken and to tell me that the lights might not work, my mom said, Okay.
She didn’t ask any questions. She didn’t think, “Hmmmm…. that seems weird.” or “My sweet, innocent 10-year-old daughter…” Nope – she just asked me to go get some chicken.
I think this really explains a lot about my childhood. (This post explains a lot too.)