The Spookiest Story Ever Told by Leanna Harrison
My children frequently asked for bedtime stories when they were younger. As the preenage years set in, the requests are now few and far between. When they do ask, typically while camping, they request a “spooky story”. They beg for legends like the Tailypo, or something equally as disturbing and dark. I somewhat oblige their current request with a counteroffer – I explain, “I’ll tell you a story even spookier than the Tailypo and creepier than Pennywise. With that, I start potentially the final bedtime story I might ever tell them, which is in itself a spooky realization.
“It was a DARK and STORMY night,” (as every spooky story in the history of spooky stories begins). I continue, “The day was MONDAY, the clock reads 4:49 AM, and the wind is howling in the dark. Feverish from hot flashes, or cold sweats, or whatever is forcing me awake, I liberate myself from the blankets. Having conquered the bedding, panic sets in and I wonder – what time is it? Twisting sideways, I grab my phone next to the bed. Fumbling for the power button, I’m blinded by the unlocked illumination. The screen display reads 4:50 AM – ten minutes to spare before the alarm. More panic ensues from the minimal hours of restless sleep. I come to terms with the alarm, deciding to stay awake. Launching Facebook, I read a notification from my aunt Shirley.
She commented on the funny meme I reposted of Salt Bae with the caption, ‘all these flavors and you choose to be salty.’ She asks if my husband Johnny and I are still happily married, wondering who this man is in this photo. Sometimes it’s easier to just respond and inform her generation, but I internalize a sigh. I don’t have the energy to explain this to her today. It feels like when Xanga was popular, or instant messaging, and my friends and I would post lyrics to our favorite emo song. Then my parents would frantically ask if everything is okay.
Suddenly, the alarm starts to blast in my hand. Startled, I drop the phone on my face. This five-ounce death trap falls, landing right between my eyes, and I know it’s going to bruise. I ponder how this iPhone can even reach enough velocity to take my eyes out or bruise the bridge of my nose living between them. Is this a result of growing up – quick bruising? Perhaps gravity too is failing us during the fifth extinction cycle of global warming? Better yet – I’m an idiot who holds a phone directly above my face and then proceeds to drop it. Embarrassingly, I think… it’s definitely global warming.
I click on my phone to check the time again and there’s a spiderweb crack in the corner. Great, I think, first my face, now my phone. The time is 5:15 AM – where did the time go? I surge out of bed and get dressed in a frenzy. I hectically snatch a bagel, but don’t have time to heat it up. I pour yesterday’s aged coffee, shoving it in the microwave. It heats in my ‘Just keep trying,” ceramic mug with a sad bear attached to the side. I hastily dump coffee into my thermos, a knock-off Yeti, and I’m out the door by 5:40 AM – I’m already late. How does this keep happening to me? If I’m late again, I risk losing my job, and now I have a broken screen to repair. Maybe my bruised face will buy me some pity. I take a bite of my bagel, it tastes off. I look down and it’s covered in a green fuzz. I scream, and without thinking, throw the moldy bagel out of my car window. In an attempt to rinse my mouth with coffee, I burn my tongue, dropping the thermos in my lap. I’m wearing khakis and a light-colored t-shirt. ‘Shiiiiiishkabob!’ I yell to myself. I recover in enough time to see lights flashing and hear sirens from behind me. The all-too-familiar police cruiser demanding a reaction from me… so I…”
My daughter interrupts this story – “MOM, this is NOT a scary story.”
I snap back – “YES, it is!” I illuminate my face in the dark and say, “what’s scarier than ADULTING?”
Everyone realizes the punchline of my “joke” and starts laughing. However, I’m not joking or laughing as I look down at my cracked phone screen and massage the sore bruise on my nose.
“This is as spooky as it gets, kids – and you don’t even know…”