This is only the second part of what could be an endless supply of childhood altering events. This one, however, deals with my childhood fear of ghosts.
As a younger child, 19, I slept with the bathroom light on. Ok, so it was more around the ages of 6-7. The point is that in my younger days I slept with a light on. Every few nights or so I would wake up and see a ghost floating around my room who would eventually go into my bathroom, where the light was on. Now, this bathroom was connected to my brother’s room, so I was naturally afraid that the ghost was going to attack or kidnap my brother. I was very conflicted at these times. On the one hand, I wanted to protect my brother from this ghost coming to get him. On the other, if I went to protect him, the ghost might attack and kidnap me. So, whenever this happened, I decided to play it safe and go back to sleep. I don’t know where a ghost would hold a hostage, or how it would deliver the ransom demands, but I’m sure they have ways. Evil, ghostly ways.
One night I was particularly scared by the ghost and went to wake up my parents and warn them. I only got back into bed when my father said he was going to use “ghost spray” and proceeded to spray an aerosol can around the room. I finally felt safe and I think it was the last time I saw the ghost.
Now, we cut to about ten years later. Sitting around the table for dinner one time, the subject of ghosts comes up and the “ghost spray” incident is recounted. My parents are hysterical because they remember using some bathroom freshener spray, calling it “ghost spray” so I would shut up and go to sleep. Alright, so I guess it’s possible that the ghost wasn’t real, but c’mon, it’s a treasured childhood memory! You just don’t go throwing those away, not without a fight, at least. The thing that stings the most is the lies.
Once again, the rational part of me, of which there is very little, says that maybe my parents were tired at 4 am. Maybe, as I said before, it might be possible that ghosts don’t exist. But rather than sit down and have a religious/afterlife/reality kind of discussion, my parents just wanted to go back to sleep. Selfish parents. It’s not like I woke them up every night; it was probably like every other night.
It’s a miracle I can sleep through the night now, knowing at any moment my parents could get up and lie to me. Ghosts are real kids, and they don’t fear spray.