DO I DETECT A NOTE OF UNSEASONAL GRUMPINESS? NO SUGAR PIGGYWIGGY FOR YOU, ALBERT. ~ Death. Hogfather, Terry Pratchett
Unfortunately, I’m the sort of person that has this irrational fear to death. I don’t mean that inherent fear we all have as human beings, I mean the properly hide-under-the-bed-covers-and-nearly-sweat-to-death sort of fear.
I remember growing up not being able to sleep without a light on or Classic FM playing in the background. Breathing heavily from fear then suddenly holding my breath when I heard the creak of a floorboard. I would scrunch up into the edges of my bed, pulling the quilt away from the other edges so that if someone came in they’d think no one was in there. And by ‘someone’ I don’t mean the postman, I mean like a monster-type. You know the ones, all scary like. If I can’t see it, it can’t see me.
“A loophole,” said Susan.
“Well, why can’t you find one too?”
I AM THE GRIM REAPER. I DO NOT THINK PEOPLE WISH ME TO GET.. CREATIVE.
My imagination is so off the rails it thinks it lives in the DiscWorld and goes to Hogwarts. Which is wonderful on the one hand of course; The best times I had was when I was alone pretending. But on the other hand, the one that isn’t holding fearies, magic, laughter and wonderful dimensions, my mind would unravel like a kitten-driven ball of wool. And I wouldn’t be able to stop it.
It could be about anything. Any one. Most of the time it was about other members of my family dying in some horrific accident. My Mum used to work a lot when I was younger, we had Au Pairs for years. But even then, if I knew she was driving home from work at night and hadn’t called (and why would she) I would go into a blind panic with horrific images flashing across my brain. She would get home to find ‘House Phone’ had called about 11 times. And this was when I was 8.
Even now, if my little sister goes out for an evening my mind races with thoughts of rapists, murderers, dementors and evil spirits for hours. It is so frustrating and totally unnecessary. I know, logically, that these things are highly unlikely and damn near impossible (no, I’ll never stop believing) but my mind runs off in a toga and unsightly sandals thinking it knows what’s what.
So now, whenever I get scared of death and dying, I think of Death in the DiscWorld. He’s awesome.
THAT’S MORTALS FOR YOU, Death continued. THEY’VE ONLY GOT A FEW YEARS IN THIS WORLD AND THEY SPEND THEM ALL IN MAKING THINGS MORE COMPLICATING FOR THEMSELVES
You should probably all pick up a Terry Pratchett book.. And reading it would probably help you along too.