Don’t believe the ghost stories

First appeared as a web original on June 27, 2011

It was a dark and starless night. As a young girl of six, I was hiding in the shadows of my grandma’s front yard, listening to my teenage uncle and cousins telling ghost stories.

The stories became more embellished and dramatic as the guys practiced and improved their abilities to tell tales of impending doom. I knew I shouldn’t have been there, because everyone was more grown up and I was little, but wanting to be in on the “fun” held me fixed in my spot.

Having seen very little TV, I wasn’t aware that all of it was make-believe. The teenagers went home and probably slept without fear or dread because they had knowledge that I didn’t have. On the other hand, after this, I lived in terror of the night and bedtime.

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