Frightened Story

One evening (several years ago), as the sun was setting, my sister and I sat in the living room watching T.V. Our living room had four huge french doors, covered by blinds, that opened to the back porch. Our closest neighbors were located several acres away. My mother was stuck at work and not expected to be home for several hours. As we were talking and watching our favorite show, I suddenly looked out the french door. I immediately told my sister to be quiet. We both could see a shadow pacing back and forth across the deck. We were both alarmed and unsure what to do. We raced to the other side of the house, ending up in the closet of my mom's room. Looking back, this we not the smartest place to run. We were left trapped inside a closet with no where to go. My sister grabbed for her phone. She called my mom several times with no answer. We kept trying. We could of sworn we heard the back door open, so we waited. We continued to call my mom. Still no answer. It seemed as if we could hear footsteps coming up the long hallway. Just in time, we got a call from my mom. She told us that my aunt would be stopping by soon and that we should call her. We quickly called her and asked where she was. My aunt informed us that she had just walked in the door. We slowly walked out of the closet, still a little shaky, but feeling extremely dumb.

Half baked survival scheme

If there is a zombpocalypse and assuming that I'm alone in my house when I first hear of it, I will go to my room in the upper part of my house. Barricading the door with the large blue chair that's normally to the left of the door will hopefully give me enough time to run around to the bathroom door, the only other door leading to my room. These barriers should offer enough time for me to collect all the belongings I need including water from the bathroom sink, the Halloween candy I keep in my closest, the two rolls of duck tape on top of my dresser, and enough clothes to last a week; I'd also change into my thickest and least exsposing clothing in order to protect myself from zombie bites. If the power holds out then I'll use whatever time I have left to download zombie killing music from itunes which would probably be something from Kill Bill. With all these provisions stored away, I'd jump out my second story window aiming for the bushes; if the garage is open then I'll take the shovels, hedge trimmers, which looks like a chainsaw to me, or the ax as a weapon. From there I'd make my way to Ned's house where I'll be reminded of how we were getting to an oil platform and to an island fortress. I'd leave it to others to get me to these supposedly safe spots.

Ever since I was younger I have imagined what I would do if was abducted or kidnapped. And while contemplating these things I planned out my escape from these situations. I like to believe that these plans would actually work to reassure myself when I'm walking by myself. I have never contemplated a zombie attack however and I would like this opportunity to create a new escape plan. I am going to assume that this attack is worldwide and I cannot just flee to another state. According to my research there is more than one type of zombie according to culture. These are: natural zombies, supernatural zombies, and alien zombies. For purposes of realism, I am going to assume that the zombies attacking earth are of the alien zombies, which are the most likely kind that you are going to run into. Alien zombies are animated by an extraterrestrial force. They are infectious and can spread their zombieness to others by biting. They can't feel most injuries but can be killed by destroying their brain. Based on the likelihood that there will be too many zombies for me to kill enough to make a difference, my plan of action would be to get to a safe place as fast as I can. Since I do not know how to use a firearm and cannot be trusted to have good enough aim to shoot squarely though its head, I will use a zombie’s natural aversion to fire to make my escape. To hold off the zombies, I will barricade all of my doors and windows of my house with furniture and boards of wood. This will give me a few minutes of needed preparation time. With this done I will dose my house in gasoline from the grill and our supply for the lawnmowers to set my house on fire. I will ignite a trail of the gasoline to give me time to get to my car in the garage before my house sets on fire. I will then run over as many zombies as possible before leaving and fleeing to a supermarket, which is the designated safe house since it could probably feed about 100 people for a month or so and doesn’t have that many entrances to guard. This will give the survivors to gather supplies and prepare for the ongoing strife.

My fear

Although it is a fear I am kiiiinda over now, I used to be extremely scared of dogs. It started when I was about 5-years-old and chased by a Great Pyrenees. Some people won’t believe that I can still remember this dog literally breathing on the back of my neck and his slobbery breath while chasing me. But I do! Since this was a Great Pyrenees, which can grow to be over 100 pounds easy, I was significantly smaller than him. After that, I had a huge problem believing dogs weren’t going to chase and attack me. Recently, I experienced a situation quite similar to the Great Pyrenees one. I walked over to my neighbor’s house up the street to give them some chocolate and show my new puppy. But on the way back, a boxer-looking dog ran over to me, and it was pretty big. I knew that if I ran, it would chase me so I walked super fast but it didn’t help that my puppy wanted to play with this dog. I just kept walking to my house and once I got home, I realized I had a layer of sweat from head to toe probably out of fear, and this was on a really cold night. So, this probably means I’m not totally over my fear of dogs, but if I get used to one, I’m totally fine. But for the most part, I choose to stay away from large breed dogs.

My fears all start with s

Being stuck in the middle of a tornado while being attacked by an army of spiders would be my worst nightmare because the things that scare me the most are probably storms and spiders. With storms, maybe it’s the fact that I’m afraid of being sucked up into the sky in a tornado and being lost forever, or maybe it’s the fact I might get crushed to death. I’m not really sure. I haven’t always been afraid of storms either, I mean my favorite movie when I was little was Wizard of Oz, which had a huge twister inside of the plot-literally. My fear of spiders I have had pretty much all of my life. Every time I see one I squeal and jump. BUT I SAW THE BIGGEST ONE OF MY LIFE A FEW MONTHS AGO! If you make c’s with your hands, then place one c within the other, that was the size. It creeped into the crevice under my sink in the bathroom, so my dad sprayed Raid in the area for about 10 minutes straight. My fear probably comes from a true story of an experience with my dad. Right before my parents were married in Hawaii, my dad was bitten by a poisonous spider and could see the poison traveling up his vein. No spider, whether it is poisonous or not, can be trusted by me for as long as I live.

braaaaiiiinnssss

Now most people might say that if zombies attacked they would stock up on weapons, ammo, food, shelter, etc but what's the point? Why live a life in constant fear and struggle for life when you could spend all day leisurely strolling around town looking for things to eat. Then once you've spotted your lunch you get to experience the excitement of chasing after it and devouring their delicious pink brain! Due to popular culture zombies have been harshly discriminated against; being shown as monsters with gross deformities, and no thought process. This is insulting and frankly lifeist. Zombies can clean up nice too! Now while they may have an irresistible urge to eat any living person on sight, you must remember that they are just as scared of you as you are of them. They are only protecting their own well being, and their zombie children. Yes believe it or not zombies can reproduce! Not many living people know this, because people just wouldn't hate zombies nearly as much if they saw their cute little brain feasting babies. If zombies ever attacked I propose not slaughtering them by the thousands, but joining them in their pursuit of happiness.

yikes!!

I have an irrational fear that has inhibited me from watching scary movies, getting shots (or blood drawn), and helping others around me who are picking their finger warts or severely bleeding on MY desk (hem, hem). It is a fear which I find perfectly reasonable; but in the words of my hematologist-oncologist (BLOOD and cancer doc) father, it is considered by some to be “overly dramatic” or “just a phase”. HE IS WRONG!!! Whenever I see blood and/or needles, I feel as if I am having an anxiety attack! My heart starts racing faster than it does during a soccer game, my palms get too sweaty to clench, my head starts to hurt because it makes me feel as if I am spinning, and my stomach is doing backflips as if it is also trying to get away from the horrendous sight of the long and slender needle that is about to puncture my skin and squirt fluids which will make my arms and legs sore after a few minutes. I am sixteen years old, both of my parents are doctors (one even specializing in blood disorders!), and still cannot have a syringe within a meter of my body without crying. And I don’t mean quietly weeping to myself. I mean clenching whoever’s arm is closest to me until it turns white and having to look away, because after I accidently kicked a pregnant woman giving me a shot when I was four my mother thought it best to numb any part of my body that may be pierced by those darn things, until the poor nurse having to watch this scene tells me that she is done and has already taken the box out.

I understand my fear of needles more than my fear of blood, or more specifically severe wounds. Whenever watching a scary or violent movie with my friends and someone has an anatomical part hacked off, my body has the same reaction as it does when I know I am going to be the syringe’s next victim, and when asked why, I can’t explain it. Perhaps it’s the knowledge that to have blood spewing out of a body some brute force had to have inflicted it, which immediately and subconsciously makes my mind and body try to avoid any circumstances in which I would be drawn to a similar situation. But who knows? I am not a psychiatrist and just came up with that theory while writing this blog (although it does sound relatively reasonable to me).

Hopefully, I will, as my dad so believes with such a passive attitude, outgrow these “silly” fears! In the meantime, I will rigorously avoid any shots (so far I have accomplished this feat by winning the debate with my parents on flu shots vs. mist), having my blood drawn, and/or watching movies that cause my sympathetic nervous system to kick in!