Being scared.

I don’t know why I love horror stuff. I guess it’s because it’s really fun screaming your lungs out and feeling the adrenaline pumping through your veins. I don’t think there’s really anything I’m afraid of, except perhaps cockroaches (they are some downright nasty creatures, I mean seriously, can’t they get that no one wants them hanging around for millions of years?!)

But I just realised something (writing makes me realise many things), I’m only not afraid of the dark, or ghosts, or hospitals, or cemeteries, or haunted houses, or haunted toilets, or strange sounds at night when I’m… not alone. As in, I feel nothing at all when there are people around me, but it’s when I’m totally and completely alone… that my courage starts to waver.
So I guess this means that I’m afraid of…being alone?

I am afraid of ending up as some lonely old cat lady 60 years into the future.
I am scared of dying alone.
I freak out loads of times when I’m alone in the house. (thank you hyper-active imagination and a brain chocked full of horror movie plots)
I would act all brave if someone dares me to go into this dark room alone, but really, on the inside, I’m shaking so badly that I could probably cause a tsunami with all the sweat I’d produce at the same time. (bad imagery, I know)
I’d just die watching Bio channel’s ‘celebrity ghost stories’ if I’m alone on the couch outside when the whole house is dark and everyone’s already sleeping. Seriously. It’s only fun when I’m watching it with my grandma because then she’d freak out and I’ll act as some sort of corny hero.

In some ways, I’d rather be scared of spiders or dead people. Or maybe even snakes or blood. Because being alone is something that happens all the time, while on the other hand, blood doesn’t just come squirting at you to scare the crap out of you everyday.

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