It would be fair to say, that the only thing in life, short of first dates, that really truly scares me, are my very own dreams
. I've always tried to understand it, but who knows better than yourself, what scares you the most.
I was playing on my computer, when I hear scuffling behind me, thinking it was my cat, I ignored it. When the scuffling tunred into footsteps, I got nervous. I turned around, to see this pair of shoes, walking across my carpet, accompanied by maniacal laughter. I was petrified. So fucking scared, that I ran to my gun cabinet, pulled out my shotgun, and started pluggin' the shoes. When I ran out of shells, I grabbed the shoes, and threw them out my front door.
Everything was ok, for now. I went over to anm and his wife's house, to tell them about what happened. We then all went over to my house. The four of us, I do not remember who the fourth person was, were watching TV in the guest room I heard a sound in the laundry room, so I went to check it out. When I got in there, there was this evil black figure crouching in a spiderman position on my washing machine. It said to me, "You took my shoes." It lept upon me and started ripping me apart.
I woke up with JarJar nibbling on my ears, I was drenched in sweat, and an hour late for work.