So the blog prompt from @missy @rambo and @lyxzen was what was the scariest thing that has ever happened to me.
I would say there are 3 or 4 scary moments that really stand out. I can't pin point just one as the scariest, mostly because they all fall into different catagories to me and have defined me in different ways throughout the years.
I know i've discussed that terrible sexual assault i went through on a previous blog post many moons ago, so i'd rather not retell that one today. that may be the top of the list though.
Today i have a story, rarely told, from when i was a little girl That i think is halloween-appropriate, perhaps. I don't know how it ranks on the scary-scale for others, but all these years later it's still exceptionally vivid for me, and still haunts me to this day.
As a little girl, i loved staying up late at night. my parents had this little house on the corner on top of a little hill in a little neighborhood. The window in my bedroom was one of my favorite places to be. I could see down the hill to the baseball parks we played at, the playground, my friends houses, and the neighborhood streets i roamed.
i would gaze out at my little world, hypnotized by the street lights, and fantasize, contemplate, cry and dream, well through my teen years. This window was the canvas for my deepest thoughs; I would reflect on moments i wanted to relive and play out scenarios of moments id dream of coming true. It felt safe from there. The dim orange steetlights and the cool night time breeze that would come in through this crack in the bottom pane was soothing in some of my saddest and darkest times and rejuvinating when i was most inspired and hopeful. I also had some of my most memorable moments with friends, and childhood romances, at that window, in the days before cell phones.
It was my window to the world, in the truest sense.
When i was about 10, i was up terribly late on a school night. I had moved my furniture around quite a bit in my life, and at that time, my bed was right against the wall with the window. I was curled up in bed, reading by flashlight so my parents didn't complain. The faint orange glow from the streetlight was highlighting the foot of my bed, and i was thuroughly engaged in my big book of fairy tales, when the street light seemed to dim. I glanced up quickly, dismissed it and went back to my book. It wasnt unheard of for the streetlight to flicker on and off. A while later i went to put my book away and i switched off my flashlight to notice it seemed oddly dark in my room. The orange haze was still there, but it was muted, like the light post had moved 50 feet further away.
i leaned forward to take a look outside, when i saw a sillhouette staring right back at me, maybe 2 feet away from my window. What seemed like an eternity looking back at that faceless face looking at me, standing between me and my world, ended in a flash as he bolted out of my backyard, and i was left frozen.
The breeze through that crack in my window at that moment was a chill, a stark reminder of my vulnerability. I couldn't move or speak as i tried to comprehend this bizaarly invasive moment. This thing that i knew was wrong, yet still feeling as though nothing happened. No one would take me seriously. How long had he been standing there, Staring at me through that pane of glass that i stared out of every day? And why?
To be the the subject of a voyeur as such a young girl, through my window to the world, has haunted me to this day. I moved my bed away from windows, I don't like first floor apartments, and ive come to love curtains. I still adored that window, but always with that sillhouette in the back of my mind. I left my light on more at night, and my music. I justified it to myself by claiming it would scare someone from trying that again, and that may still be true, but looking back i realize it had more to do with sheilding myself. It distracted me from any noises or movement outside, by bringing me inside, away from my little world and into my cozy little sanctuary away from it all.
