So I don’t look out my window when I’m using my computer at night. I’m scared to death someone will look back at me. Or I’ll see someone (or something) run past my window.
What if I was happily surfing the interwebs, minding my own business, then when I look up and THERE’S A FUCKING CREEP IN THE WINDOW!
WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING THERE? GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM MY HOUSE!! GET OUT OF HERE YOU CREEP I’M GOING TO SHOOT YOU WITH MY SHOTGUN, because I live in West Virginia and everyone owns at least one shotgun.
Except if there really was a man out there, I would really be like
HOLY SHIT I’M GOING TO GET RAPED WHERE’S MY DOG, BASEBALL BAT AND THE NEAREST DOOR WITH A LOCK ON IT!? At that point, I would enter the fetal position and not really move anywhere because I’m a pussy. My dog would take action though!
This fear stemmed from my grandmothers story of Peeping Tom I heard when I was younger. She didn’t really mean anything scary by it, she just told my older cousin not to change in front of windows because there might be peeping toms there. I didn’t really know what a peeping tom was or what it looked like, I only knew it was a guy named Tom who looked through windows. So with my psychotic mind I began thinking up the creepiest image ever.
When I was in her house that night I kept making up scenarios, and when I went to use the bathroom I looked over at the bathtub and thought “…Can Peeping Tom be in the bathtub?” Then I was afraid to go to the bathroom because what if Peeping Tom slowly rose out of the bathtub and stared at me with his creepy, very Chuckie-esque faace. It probably resembled Chuckie because I’m moderately certain that was the movie we watched at my friends horrifying slumber party, and this took place not too far later.
After about 5 minutes of staring at the bathtub like a deer trapped in headlights and not turning on the lights which led me to scaring myself even more, I ran out of there flailing my arms.
“NINA NINA CAN TOM BE IN THE BATHTUB?”
“Dear lord, what are you going on about?”
“TOM IS IN THE BATHROOM CAN HE BE IN THE TUB?”
“Tom who? Someone is in our house?”
“NO PEEPING CAN PEEPING TOM BE IN THE BATHROOM?”
I think this is about when it kicked in for my grandmother.
“No honey, that’s just an analogy. Peeping Tom isn’t in the bathtub”
Being about eight I obviously didn’t know what an analogy was, but that was good enough for me. I was once again able to use the bathroom. For awhile. Unless the toilet seat was up.
I don’t remember exactly what I used to think Peeping Tom looked like after he changed from Chuckie, I just remember it was enough to ingrain a fear of him into my subconscious.
Now when I’m sitting around casually on the computer, which is the only time my back is turned to the window, I sometimes think “Holy shit what if there’s a guy looking in my window right now“, but now I don’t want to look out the window because WHAT IF MY SUSPICIONS ARE CORRECT THEN I’M SCARRED FOR LIFE. So I tell myself “if there’s a guy looking through your window he’ll go away soon or try to get in, and if he tries to get in my dog probably weighs more than him anyways -I have a dog other than that dinky chihuahua, by the way. She’s really adorable and like 140 pounds of pure muscle- and then you will have time to get the baseball bat while he tries to get in and you’ll never have to look at him through that window” So I won’t look at the window.
Sometimes if I’m beyond paranoid that night for whatever reason I’ll leave and to go in the kitchen and open the door to the refrigerator and stare at the light and food until I feel better. Food always makes me feel better.
I really can’t live alone, I’m far too deranged.