I lay in my bed mid-afternoon. The orange curtains made the softened sunlight somehow warmer. Bored, my eyelids would slowly close—a childhood naptime–the sweet stuff of adult memories.
But in the evening, the same room seemed sinister. The closet door hid unknown horrors. Under my bed lurked creatures just waiting for me to close my eyes so that they could come out and “get me”.
Even today, I remember the window, through which I could view the full moon.
I woke up one night and lay in the bed, dreading the idea of getting out and having my feet touch the floor. So I lay there. The only thing that protected me was the sheets and blankets that were pulled up tight under my chin. I felt safe, safer with the protection of the layers of cloth. Continue reading
I was 4 years old and had a beautiful circus-themed nursery. There was a handmade circus wagon on one side that my dad made special for me, complete with a canopy overhead. The circus wagon had cute stuffed animals on it of a lion, a tiger, and a bear, among others. On the opposite wall were pictures of those same sweet circus animals. Mom thought she had done such a great job making this cute, sweet nursery, but little did she know… 
I have always wanted to be good, not necessarily the best, but just good at whatever I did. This especially was the case when I would participate in team sports. One of my fears as a child was when being chosen to play games and teams were needed I would never be chosen as one of the first few. This left me feeling bad that I didn’t have the ability or the reputation to be either the most popular or the best at a sport. Consequently, I always shied away from playing team sports.
It was chilly in my room. The snow was wisping in through three holes in the storm window and landing on the foot of my bed. I lay in bed and listened for the sounds of the radio or the sounds that mom normally was making in the kitchen. All I could hear was silence.
