Halloween is Finally Here!

Halloween is finally here! The one day of the year where it is culturally¬†acceptable to go door to door (often dressed as a maniac) and beg for candy. It’s my second favorite holiday, after my birthday, of course.

This year, Spinette is dressing up as a unicorn dressing up as Akatsuki.

I am going to wear a cape. Well, I’m going to be a huntress. They only had two options in my size at the store.

Spinette and I were planning to tell ghost stories for Halloween, but due to writer’s block and not planning things in advance and sheer laziness, I’m just going to direct you to this spooky story.

His story is probably spookier than anything I could come up with anyway. Note: All of my possibilities for my story revolved around cantaloupe.

So, instead of gracing you with a terrifying story that would cause you to pee your pants, I’m just going to define a bunch of different fears.

Androphobia- An abnormal fear of men.

Anatidaephobia- The fear of being watched by a duck.

Hylophobia- The fear of trees.

Omphalophobia- The fear of belly buttons.

Pogonophobia- The fear of beards.

Deipnophobia- The fear of dinner parties.

Genuphobia- The fear of knees.

Scriptophobia- The fear of writing in public.

Hexakosioihexekontahexaphobia- Fear of ze number 666 (Illuminati confirmed).

Sesquipedalophobia- The fear of long words. Would a person with this be afraid of “Sesquipedalophobia” and “Hexakosioihexekontahexaphobia”?

Aulophobia- The fear of flutes.

Samhainophobia- A fear of Halloween.

Metrophobia- The fear of poetry.

Phobophobia- The fear of phobias.

 

How are you going to scare yourself this Halloween?

My Irrational Fears #4

This is probably the fourth My Irrational Fears post, but I may have lost count. I’m not sure and I don’t particularly care.

I strongly dislike walking into gymnasiums because I am afraid that I will be hit by falling basketballs.

This fear is not entirely unfounded. I have been hit on the head by falling basketballs about a fourth of the times that I decide to visit various gymnasiums.

This fear has been useful to me before. Once, my friend asked me to come to the gymnasium with her, but I refused because I was afraid that I would be hit by a falling basketball. She was hit in the face by a basketball and broke her tooth.

(Told you so.)

And plus, basketballs are red-orange. This isn’t a reason I’m afraid of them, it’s just a fact that they are red-orange.

To clarify, I am not afraid of basketballs when they stay still, only when someone throws one and I happen to be standing directly in the line of the parabola. Then I am afraid on my teeth’s behalf.

My Irrational Fears #3

I am very afraid of getting hit by opening doors.

Whenever I walk in hallways, I am always very alert, listening hard for the sound of a turning knob or shuffling feet on the other side of the door.

If a knob ever turns, I flinch away. This has saved me multiple times from potential death-by-door.

Recently, I have been visiting a new facility that has discovered a way to avoid death-by-door. Their doors are all set in alcoves so they wouldn’t hit people in the hallway. The same cannot be said of people in the alcove.

But I still flinch when the knob turns.

Stinkbugs

I am Spinette.

I am currently being terrorized by a stinkbug.

It flaps its wings at sudden intervals, sending a fearful sting through my chest and sweat drooping down my spine.

He stares at me for a moment, then flies closer, but then, fortunately, flies in another direction, mocking me.

I feel as if though tiny ants are crawling up my neck and have instinctual urges to say “Oh god” and slap some random place of my body as if killing a mosquito.

Then the popping starts.

Pop. pop. pop.

It’s the children of that foul beast, I tell myself, as my sweat gets colder.

They get louder.

My sweat has officially reached 0 degrees Celsius and now is frozen to my back.

The feeling of ants crawls up even higher, colonizing my hair.

The stinkbug flies closer, sitting on the window, wings fluttering.

More popping.

It seems to be coming from behind, so I quickly turn my head, seeing nothing but an empty brown office chair.

It flies closer, this time on my computer mouse.

I lean away, silently screaming, eyes wide in horror.

Another stinkbug files overhead.

I stifle my silent screams.

I rub my knees together, hopefully generating enough heat to will the foul beasts away.

Eerily, he reminds me of myself, but only distantly.

The stinkbug is on my nose.

He likes the heat.

I scream.

Loud.

 

 

 

 

My Irrational Fears #1

Like everyone else, I have fears that are completely irrational, which means they make absolutely no sense. This will be a series of posts as I have quite a few irrational fears and stories that go along with them.

Escalators

I used to love escalators. I would go to a certain place just to ride on the escalator over and over and over. But then, once, I didn’t step perfectly between the lines while it was flat and my heel caught on the edge of the step behind me as it began to rise and while I didn’t nearly fall, or actually fall, it frightened me. This one mishap wasn’t enough to completely eradicate my lifelong love of escalators, but when it happened again, my lifelong love of escalators was completely eradicated.

Once, we were trying to go down an escalator, as most people tend to try with escalators. My father was holding my and my brother’s hands. This was before I realized that I was afraid of escalators.

As we approached the escalators, I began to hyperventilate and generally freak out.

My brother stepped onto the deadly moving staircase first, followed by my father, but my legs had locked into place and they would not move.

The arm that was locked in my father’s hand began to stretch as they moved further down the deathtrap and my father attempted to urge me to come.

My brother nearly fell down the escalator.

 

Another time, we were visiting somewhere or the other. Niagra Falls or something, I believe. By this time, I had overcome my fear of escalators that traveled in an upward direction, but escalators that traveled in a downward direction still frightened me as much as they had before.

We had gone up to a viewing platform on the second floor using an escalator. I was very proud of having boarded the death trap. But I was stuck on the second floor. I could not get down using the elevator.

The rest of my family had already gone to the lower floor, but once again, my legs refused to walk to the escalator. They were urging from the bottom for me to be brave, to face my fears.

A friendly stranger tried to help me down as well. He held my hand as we prepared to step onto the escalator, but once more, the stranger went down and I remained up… somehow.

My father had to come back up and find an elevator.

 

Once, after the first story, but before the second, I was forced to face yet another escalator. This was before I had gotten over my fear of escalators that travel in an upward direction.

We were in an airport and a horrifying escalator was looming before me, waiting to pounce.

A nice couple (who were also strangers) attempted to help me up the deadly staircase, but I predictably did not step foot onto the escalator and they went upstairs without me. We once again had to search for an elevator.

 

I have conquered my fear of escalators that go in an upward direction, but I have yet to completely vanquish escalators that go in a downward direction. I sometimes am able to go on them when I am in a particularly daring mood, which is not often.

If at all possible, I will take the stairs or an elevator.