Sisters, who needs 'em?

David, of authorblog wants to know, this weekend, if, as a child, I was afraid of the dark.

A resounding YES! would be my answer.
But I maintain, without sisters, I might not have been.

My sisters were overjoyed to scare the shit out of me on a regular basis. Frequent stories were told to me, that had my already very fertile imagination go into TOTAL overdrive.

For instance.
Did you know that Dracula had a brother? (according to my sisters.). He wore all white robes, and had vampire fangs that hung down to his knees. And he liked nothing better than the taste of young, blonde haired little girls. And he lived in MY closet. Yes indeed. All the monsters lived in my closet. But this guy, especially....

And one of my personal favorite memories:
Remember the old tale, that if you sit in front of a mirror, and chant "Bloody Mary, come and get me?" that Satan's wife would appear, and then behead you? (Once again, sisters).
The STAGED it.
when I was about 5 years old.
Middle sister laid under a bed, with her head underneath it, and the dust ruffle at her neck. To an already scared 5 year old, this was all it took to have me running for home crying. (They were at a friends house).
My childhood continued on like this. I was told stories on a regular basis. Ghost stories, horror stories. My Dad made the mistake of showing me "The Fall of the House of Usher", where a woman cries tears of blood, and scratches her way out of a coffin.
And they wonder why I would wake up in fright, in the dark, and start screaming
"HALL LIGHT!"
HAAAAAALLLLLLLLL LLLLLIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT!"
and why I had nightmares.
I wonder myself, if this is why I work nights, now?
(because I swear to you that vampire is STILL in my closet.)