Fright Night

The fun thing about writing is that it causes you to look back at your own life. So many of my teachers and professors always taught that you write what you know. So tonight is a little insight into who I was at one time – a silly teen. I am going to challenge anyone who reads this to think back when you were a teen and let us know your weirdest experience when babysitting. That’s right babysitting. Growing up in a small town, both guys and girls babysat. Most of mine was done for relatives, but there are two kids that I babysat for that made life interesting and weren’t related to me. I will write about them another time. This post is about one house in particular that taught me teenagers don’t learn lessons the easy way.

The house belonged to my cousins. It was a nice ranch styled house. Friends and relatives entered through the garage to the kitchen door. As a matter of fact, I cannot remember anyone using the front door. You entered through the kitchen area; I seem to recall a table for breakfast. Just outside the kitchen was the living room and small dining room (again not positive about where people ate). Then came the hallway. The hall led down to three bedrooms. The older child, their son, had the first bedroom. Then at the end of the hallway you found the master bedroom on the right and the youngest’s, their daughter, on the left. The odd thing was that in the girl’s bedroom (she was maybe two at the time) stood a door to outside. I think it was for a mother-in-law or something. While the door remained lock at all times, I knew it was there.

The front wall of the living room was almost entirely window. I never knew if it was one very large piece with wooden slats breaking it up or if it was multiple windows. Regardless everyone walking by could see into the living room. The back wall had French doors. While the doors opened onto the backyard, I was never sure just how hard it would be for someone to get back there and stare into through the windows.

Now I already admitted that I was not fast when it came to learning lessons as a teen. I had a habit of getting the kids off to bed early, turning off the lights, and turning on the Friday Fright night. Why? Why? Why? I would scare myself to death almost every time I babysat. I loved it.

One of the nights in question, I had help with the scary part. I remember that the older cousin really wanted to stay up and watch the scary movie with me. With his parents’ permission, he had stayed up once or twice when the movie was not all that scary. He loved them almost as much as I did. This night, however, it was supposed to be a great Dracula feature. I sent him off early to ensure that he would be asleep when the movie started.

As with every other night in which I was paid to watch movies, I popped popcorn, grabbed a soda, turned off the lights, and hit the couch. I settled in for the movie. It did not help that the wind had picked up outside. Twigs and leaves hit the window intermittently. I pushed deeper into the couch. The wall of windows on my left, the French doors on my right. Dracula was doing well on adding to his numbers. Then it happened…..

During one of the quiet parts of the film, from far down the hallway, I heard a bang. I waited patiently to hear if other noise would follow. Another bang and what sounded like…….well……it sounded like a voice. In my mind, one thing popped. The door to the outside in my younger cousin’s room. What if someone had gotten in? All these different possibilities started rushing through my head. I, being a teen, actually asked myself, “Should I check?”

“Hello?” Yep it was a voice. It was faint – almost a whisper. Great it moved from intruders to a ghost. I stood up. I started down the hall. I remember checking on the boy. I knew that neither the noise nor voice had come from his room. I did this to just build some confidence. I moved toward the end of the hall – toward it.

Part way down the hall, I reached the light switch. I flipped it. Nothing. I flipped it the other way. Nothing. Great a burned out bulb. I pushed my back against the wall opposite the bedroom with the outside door. I now stood opposite the door. I peered into the dark. I couldn’t see much. I could see the crib, but not if my cousin still slept within. “Hello.” The voice spoke but I could not see a body.

I reached into the master bedroom. I found the switch and flipped it. A light came on. Unfortunately, it was a little light on a dresser. What the heck? At least I had a little light. I moved into the center of the hall looking into the dark room. Then I saw it or rather her.

There sitting in the corner of the room was my little cousin. She had crawled out of her crib and decided to crawl over to her dolls and stuffed animals. She sat there talking to them as if it were the middle of the day. She giggled when she saw me.

The two of us went back into the living room. I changed off of Dracula to some comedy. When she finally fell back asleep, I carried her back to her crib. I left the light on in her parents’ room just in case. The rest of the night went without further incidents.

I questioned my cousins upon their return. How could they not tell me that she could get out of her crib? In their defense, it was the first time – at least that is what they say.

This house had many other nights like this for me including one New Year’s Eve that combined a deer hanging in the garage and a news story about a baby sitter being accidentally shot by the children. I moved a chair into the corner that night and waited without moving for the parents to get home.

It is funny. I still love to try to scare myself with horror films. My wife isn’t crazy about them, so I am limited to viewing them on the rare occasion in which she is out late or when I travel and have to stay overnight in a hotel. As a teen, I do not think that I ever learned to not set myself up for self-fright any time I was hired to watch TV – I mean babysit. It was a great way to spend a Friday night.

There you have it. Just one little trip down memory lane. Thanks for meandering with me.