Posted: October 12, 2015 in Blurbs

Ghost stories frightened me as a child. Storied accounts of ghostly experiences, exchanged in candle-lit nights at a time when electricity was as reliable as a drunk contractor, would switch my mind’s imagination into hyper mode.  I’d lie awake in bed, and the eerie sounds that nighttime lends to even the most innocent of events, such as the rustle of the wind against the leaves of the tree outside, or of the soft hoot of a nesting bird, or a creak of the wooden panels, would jack up the monsters in my mind, until sheer exhaustion sets in. 

Today, those monsters no longer dwell in my head – long vanished with the realization that comes with growing up. Those beasts that my youthful mind conjured in the dead of night that had so frightened me back then, they’d tremble at the face of the real monsters that have revealed themselves in my adult life. 

These monsters are the ones I should be vigilant about. Made of flesh and bones, with corrupted minds and motivations I shall perhaps never understand, they are infinitely more terrifying than whatever an overactive imagination of a child can dream of, for they are real, alive and breathing, and therefore can inflict real pain and suffering. That’s what makes them not just frightening, but outright dangerous.

Battling these monsters is a taxing endeavor. But know this, no monster is going to bring me to my knees, mark my word!


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