Boogie man- For real?

While I was reading the poem “The Fury of Overshoes” by Anne Sexton, I got reminded of my childhood days as well. She mentions about fear and she compares that to the “wolf,” which I felt was an excellent comparison. She compares her real life experience to an unreal animal found under her bed making shadows. Well I did not really have a wolf under my bed, but when I was 12, I had this extreme phobia of opening the closet door. I always had this believe that there exists a man who drags kids away whenever someone opens the closet. I heard that the kids never return back. My mother would always convince me that it was just a story and totally not real, but my mind was set, I had no room for “convincing comments.” I was so certain that there was a man and one time I even felt it. When I look back right now, I think I overreacted.  I used to think twice whenever I opened my closet. My brother would make fun of me and he would tell all his friends about me. It was embarrassing at times but the fear of opening the closet door still remained in me. My brother would often say that “boogie man “waits in the closet until the lights are out, and then he does his business. The thought that “boogie man” exist in my closet was imprinted upon me, thanks to my brother. Whenever my mother asks me to get her something from the closet, I would always refuse, it made her quite angry sometimes but she never pushed me to do it. My mother would always sit beside my bed until I fall asleep, and usually I never felt asleep easily so most of the time I ended up sleeping with her. Moreover, I did not used to dress myself for school or get my pajamas out for I had this feeling that the “boogie man” might take me away. I used to cry a lot whenever she made me clean my closet. Somehow my brother used to end up cleaning my closet, which he totally deserved since he scared me the most. My mother suggested me to visit the doctor as well because she thought my phobia was getting extreme. To avoid the frequent visit to doctors, I had to overcome my fear, so I started making changes. First of all I inhibited myself from sleeping in mom’s room, secondly I started turning off my nightlights, and last but not the least I opened the closet with a little help from my mother of course.

It sounds so immature when I think about it right now, but it was a good joke to make my friends laugh when they felt low. It was sort of embarrassing to reveal your deep secret about some made up monster. I still get this creepy feeling whenever I walk towards my closet and turn that knob. What if someone does really drag me into the darkness?


About ztandee
Student at the Asian University for Women.

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