scary ax woman photo by @brenkee
By the time I was born, my parents were ready to get on with their lives. They went out a lot. It made me nervous and paranoid to be left alone in the suddenly big and echo-y house. We didn’t have an alarm system and we lived on a quiet, deserted street. Even with the doors locked I felt exposed, vulnerable, and afraid that someone was going to break in and “get me.”
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My way of dealing with this was to close all the curtains and put knives from the kitchen in strategic places around the den, living room, dining room, staircase, hallways, and each bedroom.
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In retrospect, I think anyone breaking in would have had a full knife arsenal collected by the time they found me shivering in a closet. This is exactly why I don’t watch horror films.
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I was always careful to ask when the folks would be getting home so I could whip open the curtains and start the knife collection. I figured they’d put me away for such paranoid behavior.
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One evening I was short in the knife round up. I panicked as I went from room to room checking all the places I usually put them. I never found it.
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But my Dad did. It had slipped down point first into the wooden floor behind my parents’ headboard. I never confessed. I mean, how would you feel if your kid had left a sharp knife in your bedroom while you were out enjoying the evening. Looks bad, doesn’t it? Wonder how he felt about Mom after that.
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Later they trusted me enough to let me have a girlfriend over while they were out. Naturally, boys appeared. We made sure to shoo them out an hour before the parents returned. It was fun to be surrounded by other mischievous kids. I think one time the boys found the liquor cabinet and refilled my Dad’s vodka bottle with water.
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I knew nothing about it until Dad asked me if I’d been drinking his booze. I hadn’t been but I just bet it was those boys. Dad let it go because I was a good girl with good grades, and nice respectable friends. I was helpful and polite. And a phenomenal actress.
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