Scared of the Dark

By Kathy Luder

Molly’s parents and brother were out of town visiting relatives for the weekend so I went to stay with her so that she wouldn’t be all alone.

Molly kept saying, “Kathy, it’ll be the great ‘Horror Movie Palooza.’”

Problem is that I don’t like scary movies. Never have. Never will. I don’t like feeling like someone is looking over my shoulder. I don’t like gross stuff and can barely stomach sci-fi. I can’t imagine why anyone would. But some people do, and sadly for me, Molly is one of them.

I had to work Friday night and didn’t get there until late. As soon as I arrived, Molly clutched my arm and said, “Oooh! We’re going to get good and scared, Kath.” She could barely stand still.

“Molly, why can’t we just watch TV?” I asked.

“Because you agreed, that’s why. Just relax! You’re going to love it.”

I had agreed, but she had bullied me at the lunch table and now I regretted giving in. But I didn’t want to go back on my word. I flopped myself down on the couch and tried not to pout. I pulled my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around them. Molly turned on the VCR, flipped the lights out, and sat down on the other end of the couch.

Molly was fast-forwarding through the previews with the remote when we heard a car pull into the driveway. “I wonder who that is,” she said. She stopped the movie and went into the kitchen. I followed her.

She peeked through the blinds. “They’re leaving,” she said. “But their lights are off.” She started to stand up, but then she gasped and let the blinds snap shut. “Kathy, it looks like there is someone in your car!”

“Where?” I asked, moving up beside her.

“In the driver’s seat,” she whispered.

“That’s just a shadow,” I whispered back while we both peered through the crack.Then something moved in my car. We both jumped back.

“That is not a shadow,” she said.

“Yes, it is,” I said. “Look again. Quit being spooky.”

“No. Don’t look. He’ll see us.” She moved to the front door and wiggled it. “It’s locked.” Then she ran upstairs. “I’ll be right back,” she called.

My heart was racing, but I didn’t want Molly to think I was scared. I kept praying, “Lord, have mercy.”

Molly came back downstairs and whispered,“I’ve got my dad’s hunting knife. We can go in the bathroom and lock the door. That’ll be safe.” She turned toward the bathroom. “Hurry!” she said but I was right behind her.

We sat down in the dark bathroom on the cold tile floor. She looked like she was about to start crying. I’d had enough. I pulled out my cell phone. “What’s your uncle’s number?”

“You can’t call him!” She practically screamed it.

“This is not funny, Molly. I am scared. I don’t like this,” I said.

“I’m scared, too,” she said. “Then give me the number or I’ll call 911,” I said.

“He won’t understand! He’ll get mad,” she said, looking past my shoulder.

“So what if he gets mad? It’s better than being raped or dead.”

I saw tears in the corner of her eyes. “No,” she said. “You’re right. It was only a shadow. Forget it. Let’s go watch TV.” She started to stand up.

I didn’t believe her and I put my hand on her arm to keep her down with me. “I saw something,” I said. “And I’m scared. So are you. Let’s just call your uncle to be safe. It’s not that late.”

“No, it’s okay,” she said. “It’s nothing. Don’t be a baby. We can handle this.” She tried to get up again.

“Fine. I’ll call my dad,” I said.

“Yes!” she said, relief in her voice. “Call your dad.”

I did, and he and my mom came right over. My mom came in and turned on all the lights and started making hot chocolate. My dad checked out my car and walked all around the house with a flashlight. He didn’t find anything. My car doors were still locked. It really had been just a shadow.

Molly and I didn’t want to stay alone, but we couldn’t go to my house because Molly was afraid her parents would call and not know where she was. She couldn’t call them because it was too late. So my dad went home and my mom stayed the night with us at Molly’s house.

We didn’t watch the movies. We just talked and drank hot chocolate. Once we felt safe, we had a blast listening to my mom’s stories and jokes.

After my mom fell asleep on the couch, Molly and I talked in our sleeping bags on the floor before drifting off.

“Why couldn’t we call your uncle?” I asked.

“Because he’s mean. He would have made fun of us and tried to scare us even worse. Your parents are nice.”

“Yeah, I guess they are.”

“It was stupid to get so scared. But at least they took us seriously. As soon as you called them I felt better. I knew they’d be nice.”

“Yeah, me too,” I said.

My parents can be weird and very unfair at times. But I do trust them. Molly and I overreacted. But as stupid as the whole thing was, I was glad I had someone to call. Like I said, I don’t like scary movies. Never have. Never will. But I think I am beginning to understand why some people do.

It is not that they want to be scared. What they want is the adrenalin rush that comes from being scared and then feeling safe.They know movies aren’t real, so even when they’re scared they feel safe. It is all emotion and no substance, which is probably why I don’t like it. But I did like hanging out with Mom and Molly that night. It was very comforting.

There wasn’t anything that would have actually hurt me. It was all in our worked–up imaginations. There wasn’t anything there. But I still needed Molly and my parents. I think that without them I might have had a nervous breakdown or something. And maybe that is why Luther included “devout husband or wife,” “faithful neighbors,” and “good friends” in his list of things necessary for the support and needs of the body under the fourth petition. We need each other – in more ways than one. It is not just so that we don’t get hurt physically or have enough to eat. We need each other mentally and spiritually.Through our parents and friends, teachers and pastors God takes care of us.

I don’t think Molly will try to bully me into watching any more scary movies. But if she does, I’m standing my ground. I can get my thrills in other ways. I don’t have to get scared to feel safe. I know that whatever happens, good or bad, I am safe in Christ Jesus and He will see me through. He will take of me. Always has. Always will.

Kathy likes flowers in spring, snow in winter, melons in summer, and pumpkins in fall. But she never likes mud or bugs, spiders or snakes. If you’d like to chat with her about this or anything else, you can e-mail her at kathyluder@hotmail.com