The quiet.....

When I was little, quiet was all I wanted. I know I have discussed my night time issues again and again, but apparently, it is something I am still working through, thinking about and processing. I would sit in my bed at night and just listen. I would listen, hoping for silence, but would always get noise.

A car driving by outside, cricks and creeks downstairs, people talking, my parents watching a scary movie. Almost anything would get me out of bed. I would get out of bed and assume my nightly position on the top of the stairs. I would sit down on the top of the stars and hug my knees close as I listened. It is amazing how much background noise you can hear when you try. I would hear what I am sure what the house settling, but in my mind it was a huge gang of burglars and they were coming to steal me, or worse kill me. I know, crazy childhood imagination, right. I always say my imagination was my best and worst friend all at the same time. During daylight hours, my imagination was spectacular. I would play and build and invent and travel to so many magical places. At night, I was a sitting duck awaiting fire, theft, kidnapping or murder, for sure.