Chapter 10

1. A Knock on the Window I lay in my bed, restless and alone, on a dark and silent night I toss and turn in my bed, trying to find a comfortable spot, but i feel uneasy. Something about tonight just didn't feel right I toss and turn until I finally find a comfortable position. I close my eyes, but it doesn't make a difference, it's too dark in my room to see a thing anyways I guess it takes time for my eyes to adjust to darkness.

I lay there, still and silent on a still and silent night My body is relaxed, my mind is blank, I'm ready for some much needed rest Instantly, the silence is shattered and my mind fils with feartul thoughts as my startled eyes flash open. Knock ,Knock i's almost undoubtedly the sound of a fist on glass. But no, it couldn't be, what would someone's motivation be to wake someone alone in their home. Think logically If someone wanted to break in, why would they warn me with a knock? They would just break in, making a loud and obvious noise, or try to be as silent as possible Why would they knock? Monsters don't exist. I could give myself some peace of mind and simply look out the window, but Im facing the other way and f'm too timid to turn my head, afraid of finding my greatest fears standing outside my window. What could it be though? Maybe a couple of birds flew into my window No, that's too unrealistic Could a group of kids be running around late at night, knocking on windows to get a few laughs? It's a possibility Come to think of it, maybe it was my imagination.

Maybe i heard the usual creak in the house and my paranoid mind has mistaken it for a knock. Knock. Knock Nope, that definitely wasn't my imagination. Those damn kids are persistent. They don't want to quit until they get that reaction Maybe some sick twisted freak is standing outside waiting for me to look so he can smash through and attack me No don't think that. Don't get paranoid Besides, he's outside, Im inside, until I hear a shatter, I know I'm safe. Monsters don't exist Besides, I haven't moved yet, hopefully those kids will think Im a heavy sleeper and leave me alone Knock Knock. No, o, it can't be kids. No kid would wait around this long just to get a reaction from one, lonely guy, they'd just get bored and move along But, what could it be? Why would a serial kiler target me, of al people? Think logically Monsters don't exist Don't get paranoid. They're outside, Im inside, until I hear a shatter, I know fm safe. But if it's not a monster or some sort of killer, what could it be? Just pretend to be asleep and maybe theyl go away. Knock. Knock. Oh GodI can't think of a noise I hate more than that persistent knock! Please go awayl Just leave me alone and let me bel There's no hope. It's going to get in here and do sick and horible things to me. Inhale Take deep breaths. I can feel my heart pound out of my chest Just relax. Monsters don't exist Remember, they're outside, Im inside, until I hear a shatter I know I'm safe. Repeat that Don't let your paranoia get the best of you Just pretend to be asieep. Don't move a muscie. Knock Knock They're outside, Im inside, until l hear a shatter, I know I'm safe. Monsters don't exist. Just pretend to be asleep and pray if go away Knock Knock They're outside, Im inside, until l hear a shatter, I know I'm safe. Frightful tears begin to drip down my face. Monsters dont exist. Monsters DO NOT exist I begin to whisper to myself, "They're outside, I'm inside, until I hear a shatter, I know I'm safe. They're outside, Im inside, until I hear a shatter, I know I'm safe. Knock. Knock I CANT TAKE ITANY MOREI I'm gonna go mad listening to these knocks! At least if I see what it is right have peace of mindl Take a deep breath I repeat to myself, one more time, "They're outside, I'm inside, until I hear a shatter, I know Im safe 1 take a few more breaths, my heart pounding as hard as it's ever pounded at a mile a minute.

I slowly turn my head to face the window. My heart sinks into my chest and Im too afraid to scream or move. turned my head to find a pale figure with beady, black eyes staring through me and into my soul as a horrid grin creeps across its face. It was standing inside the whole time, knocking on my window.

2. 2. Ever since I can remember, I've had an aversion to pickles. When I was little, my grandmother would send me down cellar to bring up a jar, for sandwiches for lunch, or maybe a jar of marmalade for breakfast-- I would start to tremble just at the thought of going down to those long, cool rows of jars, all filled with things that had once been alive and vibrant, and were now shriveled, shrunken, discolored versions of themselves, floating helplessly in sinister-looking brines, or jelled into sticky, pulpy masses. Gran would stand at the top of the stairs, her long shadow falling down them, and scold: "Hurry, boy! I'll pickle you if you're not back up by the time I count to ten!" I wasn't the only kid around scared of Gran-the neighborhood kids all avoided her-- but I never knew anybody else scared of pickles and jars. Anyway, the aversion grew worse as I got older, becoming pretty much a phobia by the time I was in my twenties. It caused some awkward social situations, but mostly I could live with it. My wife thought it was kind of cute. Or she did. Now, we're down in Gran's cellar, cleaning. Gran passed away last week. We've got to clean the place before we can sell it. All these jars, more preserves than any one person could ever use--and I'm finally figuring out my fear of pickles, and jars, and why the neighborhood kids were all as scared of Gran as I was..my wife is starting to get a little hysterical.. "Just throw them in the trash, don't look," I advise, remembering from my youth how some of the jars seemed to have things in them that looked almost like body parts, or eyes, or ears. "Just tell yourself it's only pickles..."