The Creeps!

Photo of waves crashing against the rocks. Lake Ontario. PHOTO BY SI

While everyone is freaking out about COVID-19, I'm afraid of the night and the strange sounds it brings with it. Sometimes, the wind will rap on my back door, waking up my cat. She'll look towards the door for a while, then look at me. She's not really scared, actually. She's a 4-year-old fighter with some of her feral kitty instincts still intact. My older cat, on the other hand, is a scaredy-cat like me, only the terror doesn't stay in him for long because he's got his humxn by his side. He'd listen intently to the noise or to the silence, would tremble a little, and stay close to me, reaching his front legs out and resting them on my arm. I'd reassure him that it was nothing. He'd sense my trepidation, though, and so would the younger one. Still, they would make their peace with the darkness by falling asleep, so they could travel through another world.

What about me? Who's going to help me drift off? I tune in to the silence, expecting to hear something loud or the crash of an object in my vicinity. But other than the sounds of the fridge and old-apartment creaks and cracks, I don't hear anything else except a constant whirring sound - like water gushing from somewhere. It lasts for some time before it suddenly stops.

Then, stillness. Or, disquietude.

What about the jangle outside? Could it be the tempest tap, tap, tapping against the door, windows, and brick walls? Or, could it be peculiar vibrations, notes, and tones that were comparable to soft thuds, footsteps, or someone fiddling with the door handle? It's been terrifying me since December 2015, if my memory serves me correctly. In actuality, the fear comes from a childhood of being afraid of the dark, of monsters and malice. I didn't know during my formative years that it was anxiety - at least that's what they call it in the DSM-V. But in my mind, it was dread, panic, or the creeps!