Blair Witch Project
Okay, not the most recent, but the Blair Witch Project really spooked me.

The night after seeing it, I was awoken by a crinkling sound in the next room. Convinced it was some unseen thing coming to get me, I gasped and sat up in bed, every hair on end.

My roommate had gotten two kittens that day, and they were playing with newspaper.

They knew what they were doing. Evil feline bastards.
( setimret likes his metaphors mixed, not stirred, Fri 23 Feb 2007, 1:59, Reply)

Why I need to sleep earlier.
Watched a documentary about Jack the Ripper late at night/early in the morning, meaning I got to stare at mutilated women until 1:00.

Went to bed in my now dead silent, pitch-black house.

Just as I'm falling asleep, the fucking cat decides it's the perfect time to throw itself at me, land on my chest, and start frantically chewing me.

I think they heard the scream in India.
(Fnooklemop, Fri 23 Feb 2007, 1:27, Reply)

Curiosity made the cat do a little poo
Driving home earlier this evening, I took a wee shortcut down a B-road so I could drive like a prick. Flew past some bright orange thing at 70mph so I didn't really register what it was at first.

I thought it might have been a bonfire or something, and theres houses pretty close by as well so I went back to check in case the firepeeps were needed (who am I kidding, I'm a nosey bastard).

Turned the car, went back slowly so I could check properly.

The fucking car fucking exploded as I was fucking turning the fucking corner and I screamed like a girl, ran away (drove away) and about crashed in my wee panic.

Not a scratch on my car though!
(Poptart epic lurkage ended at, Fri 23 Feb 2007, 1:25, Reply)

I still shiver when I think about this.
My parents gave me a horse about two years ago. His name is Cinch--he's a Quarter horse gelding, about 15 hands high (1 hand = 4 inches, for you non-horse people, and 4 inches = 10.16 cm for you metric-system users). Absolutely beautiful sorrel (rich mahogany-brownish-red)... anyways, the people we bought him from failed to tell us that he'd never been out on a trail ride in his entire life.
My parents bought him for me in July, and after working with him for a few months, I felt that by October I'd be ready to go trail riding on him.
So, we went out behind the barn at the place I board at--it's got like 100 acres or something ginormous like that, so it goes on forever--and went on the "bunny" trail, just to try it out.
This trail is about 5 miles (8 km, more or less), and it just goes in a straight line right on past the cornfields.
So I hop on, and Cinch is doing fantastic. We're going along at a walk at first, then a trot, then a walk. We're about a quarter of the way through the trail when the cornstalks on my left begin to rustle.
Now, it's October, so by this point, the cornstalks are VERY dry and thus make A LOT of noise when shaken, even slightly.
Cinch begins to trot a little faster. I calm him down somewhat, and then he's okay again.
More rustling.
Cinch's ears begin to flatten against his head in fear, and he starts gnawing at the bit like crazy, the whites of his eyes visible from way up in the saddle (remember, I'm about 60 inches, or 152 cm, above the cold, hard ground). I grip the reins a little tighter.
The corn rustles yet again, this time practically right under us.
Cinch turns around, neighs, rears up onto his back legs, and bolts--completely forgetting that I'm on him.
[Sidenote: quarter horses were developed to be the fastest horses in a quarter-mile (.4-km) race--they can gallop that distance at a rate of up to 30 - 35 mph, easily.]
Cinch is galloping as fast as he can. I turn around--I was expecting a coyote or something to be following us, but there was nothing there--then face forward again, heart pumping, sweating bullets, knuckles white from gripping the reins.
I don't have a clue as to what I should do.
Do I stay on as long as I can and just ride it out?
Do I jump off now, hoping he doesn't trample me?
WHAT THE CRAP DO I DO NOW?
Then, oh crap.
Crap.
Crap.
CRAP.
About 300 yards (274 m) in front of me is a rusty barbed-wire fence. And I can feel Cinch getting ready to jump.
We're rapidly coming up to this fence--and by "rapidly", I mean still at a 25 mph, flat-out, panick-induced gallop--and the only thing I know for sure is that I don't want to be skewered on a rusty barbed-wire fence.
Ever.
I'm losing my grip on the reins (my palms are sweating like crazy at this point, and my voice is hoarse [no pun intended :/] from yelling, "WHOA! WHOA! WHOA, BOY! WHOA!").
Just before slipping off, I squeeze his neck one last time.
I close my eyes and roll off.
I just did the equivalent of shoulder-rolling out of an SUV going 25 mph.
I roll off Cinch's right side, yet when I land, I'm on his left.
I ROLLED UNDER MY HORSE.
UNDER MY 1200-LB (544-KG) HORSE.
My head smacks the hard, almost-frozen ground one, two, three, four times--I count as I feel it coming in contact with the earth. I roll over my own left elbow (and yes, I'm left-handed, too, so this left me in a lot of pain and not being able to write after the incident) and I hear--and feel--something crack in my left arm.
My back about folds in half, in the wrong direction, and I roll for a few feet until I stop in the dry, hard stubble of the harvested portion of a cornfield.
Oh, my God.
Oh, my God.
Can I move?
Am I dead?
Where is my horse?
The amazing thing is, is that my brother (who was just around at the other end of the trail) reached out and fricking CAUGHT MY HORSE BY THE REINS. Just like John Wayne would've done.

I wound up with a chipped humerus, severe bruising all over my body, and multiple cuts and scrapes from rolling into the corn stubble.
My horse was fine.

A month later, I was back on him again.

I still ride--I love to--and am honestly not afraid of him or the trail (which I went back out on and conquered the next time I rode, by the way). But every now and again, I'll have a nightmare of my accident... the last time I was really scared.
(Mademoiselle Dustman picked a bouquet of oopsie daisies for you on, Fri 23 Feb 2007, 1:18, Reply)

I have been scared more recently, but this...
This happened when i was just a lad of about 11, on a perfectly normal night, in the bathroom brushing my teeth.
Job done i thought now to rinse my mouth, the Plastic tumbler that i normally fill with water, aint there.
so i just rap my lips around the cold water tap and turn it on.
Instantly i freak out and start spitting the water back into the sink.

Why? I hear you ask.

A great big bloody spider was hiding inside the tap and was then forced into my mouth by the rushing water. Oh god memories of it squirming around in my mouth and then running around like a freak after i spit it out...

still haunt me to this day.
( SolidGoldChimp, Fri 23 Feb 2007, 1:10, Reply)

Evil Dead
My cousins 13th Birthday... 15 x 12 to 14 year old girls sitting/lying in the lounge watching Evil Dead. My cousins parents were out for the night so the next door neighbours daughter was looking after us (she was a mature (??) 16 years old).

After watching a girl get raped by a tree, psycho dead people trying to get out of the basement and general gruesomness (13 years old remember) we were all hunched forward towards the television... all holding our breaths when babysitters boyfriend chooses to knock on the Loungeroom window.

Spent the rest of the night walking to the toilet down the hall in packs of 3 girls at a time and i had nightmares for months.

to this day i cannot watch that movie....
(neety, Fri 23 Feb 2007, 1:02, Reply)

Gotta be
When I woke up to go to the toilet through the night once and saw my room mate just coming out of the loo.....naked. I swear his bits looked like an upside down face of Karl Marx.
(Fatima Whitbread's hardon drugs and the causes of drugs, Fri 23 Feb 2007, 0:51, Reply)

I
am a terrible arachnophobic. So waking up with a spider hovering 1cm above my face, dangling from its web on the ceiling, was enough to really really really scare me
( HelloIamAdam and Adam is my name, Fri 23 Feb 2007, 0:44, Reply)

Last weekend
Winter climbing in Scotland.

Thin conditions, little opportunities for protection. 15 metres above my last gear and no other pro in sight. Only my axes and crampons holding me there. An icy bulge bars the way; but backing off is going to be more dangerous. I have to make the moves, knowing that one mistake will mean serious injury or worse.

So don't fucking make any mistakes.

Shit or bust. I swing the axes, test the placments, then pull up. Swearing, sweating, shaking I lock off and swing again. Good ice above, both axes bite and then I know I'm not going to die. Breathe deep; let the shaking subside. What the fuck am I doing? Why do I get myself into these spots?

I'll be back next weekend.
(simon shitting mason, Fri 23 Feb 2007, 0:29, Reply)

the day i gave up road rage
Last summer I was on my old vespa waiting at a red traffic light close to Hyde Park. As the lights changed to green I stalled it. The driver behind me beeped his horn (quite scary) and proceeded to graze my foot and push me to one side as he drove off to the next set of lights (all of about 500 yards away). Feeling a little put off with the fella i went after him and pulled up in the middle lane, on his passenger side, and started to mouth a few choice obscenities to him through his closed window.

I was keeping an even distance away from his car when I looked up to see where we were going and he was heading into my lane and veering me into the back of a bus in the bus lane. I hit the brakes and he went back into his lane again. Feeling a little more enraged i pulled up beside him again and took a swipe at his side-view mirror with the spare helmet i was carrying on my arm. i misjudged the distance.

the sound of that window exploding will be with me forever. i shat myself.

I sped off into the bus lane as fast as a vespa can, looked behind and he was about 50 yards behind me, with two wheels up on the kerb, coming after me as fast as he could.
Audi vs Vespa. It wasn't looking good. I shat myself again. At the next red light I decided to do a U-turn in front of the stopped traffic and go back up the road from whence we came when I stalled it again mid turn, in gear. He followed after me with a screeching U-turn as I was trying to kick-start my scooter. he got out of his car and came running after me with a big flashing neon sign around his neck saying "I'm gonna fuckin kill you!!" written on it. I'd run out of shit by now. the bike started and I was off.....he grabbed my seat but couldn't grip it hard enough. thank-god i didn't have a rack on the back for him to hold onto. I have to hand it to him though because he kept it up for about 300 yards.

I was properly scared. I re-sprayed my scooter that night, changed my helmet the next day and didn't drive down that road again.
(twistngo, Fri 23 Feb 2007, 0:25, Reply)

being scared.
sitting in the middle of the living room floor, holding my best friend in my arms. who'd just stopped fitting. and breathing.

if the paramedics had burst through the doorway a minute later, he might not have made it.
(melancholica, Fri 23 Feb 2007, 0:21, Reply)

Ahh!
Waking up duct taped to the floor, blindfolded.

You don't know if you're dead of what...

God damn I know some weird people.

In hindsight it must be what the guy from the video for One felt like....
(adserfadge, Fri 23 Feb 2007, 0:08, Reply)

Broken back??
I fell out of my friends tree house and landed on my back. I couldn't move for a few minutes and thought i was paralysed. He was in the house and didn't know what had happened. The thing that really scared me was the fact that i was naked. I was lying on my back, butt-naked calling to my friend to bring my pants and then call an ambulance!! Luckily I got up and was fine a few minutes later. This was only a couple of years ago. That is probably the most scary thing!
( more balanced than jeremy beadle It wasn't me..., Fri 23 Feb 2007, 0:04, Reply)

The minutes before...
...my last grading. I was totally bricking it.

And when I hit that taxi near head on at a closing speed of about 80 on the m'cycle*.

Not sure which one was worse.

Or maybe it was the time some guy I'd just met that day (no, not that way) decided to fire his rather nice CBR through a barbed wire fence while he inspect the concrete start of some ARMCO barrier at extreme close quarters. Face mashed up (even through the full lid), leather ruptured over the back, conciousness just a word in the dictionary and ambulance is lost (typical). And who's the only person who knows dick about first aid? Muggins. Nurse! new underpants please!

He was at the party about four hours later, so I guess he was OK after all.

*I survived that without a scratch; but a cop catapulted a FZR600 at me a few minutes later, that really hurt.
(SpangleDangle >->)))'>, Thu 22 Feb 2007, 23:46, Reply)

i forgot this one
the time i was in the wrong lane (poorly signposted roads, told me to go right so i got in what i thought was the correct lane) only to discover a (white) van doing a similar speed come round the corner ... an 80mph potential collision. thank god for no other cars on the road and some hasty swerving back into what i rediscovered to be the "right" lane. both the passenger and i fair shat ourselves, only the girl in the back was oblivious to the whole thing.
(zenmeban thinks the weather could be better, Thu 22 Feb 2007, 23:12, Reply)

once got spooked by lightning
1st incident was on a plane trip heading back to OZ from a trip to england (had done the international flight and was on domestic flight from Sydney to the smaller city of Dubbo). The plane was basic bus/coach sized aircraft and I had the back-window seat. Minutes away from reaching our destination we flew through a thunderstorm, much flashing about and then "CRAAK!" I saw with my own eyes lightning hitting the wing of the plane! For some reason I didn't flinch or jump or panic (I think my mum sitting next to me did on my behalf!).

For the rest of the flight I could see two black holes where bolts had been that must have superheated and popped out from the zap. The pilot denied that lightning does nothing to a plane when airborne - until we pointed out the missing bolts! I wasn't spooked by this one but I believe it was just a primer warming me up for the next one.

The 2nd incident was a few weeks later at home a thunderstorm came through and one specific zap I think must have hit next-door's powerline. The combined instant sounds of "CRAK-ZAP" from the lightning and the frying answering machine I was standing near spooked me instantly (mind you we later had to replace the fridge, answering machine and a couple of other gadgets & our wall oven has never been the same since).

Can't remember when I got over my nervousnes of lightning but I knew it took a few good months at least.
(mudslinger lives in a house surrounded by pussy....... cats!, Thu 22 Feb 2007, 23:09, Reply)

Anaphylactic shock
Longtime lurker etc.

Mate of mine is a lovely girl but very sensitive to nuts, eggs and lots of other food. At her engagement party she gets wasted and decided to have some cake covered in marzipan. Marzipan=almonds=her starting to choke in the car on the way home. We're caning down some country lanes with her fella mashing the pedal to the floor, assuring me that they've got an adrenaline pen back at their place.

We get there and it suddenly comes to light that the flat keys are back at the party place. We call an ambulance, her fella asks me for my least valuable credit card and sets about breaking into the flat while I try and keep her conscious. I'm on my own on the phone to the 999 people, trying my best when suddenly she makes a nasty noise and fucking stops breathing.

I shout up to my mate, try and drag her out of the car, he comes belting down and tries to do CPR (which doesn't work because her throat's swollen shut), I'm screaming down the phone at the 999 people and go racing off to find the ambulance two streets away, while he half-drags her and smashes his way into the flat to try and get the adrenaline. The ambulance finally gets its act together, sticks her full of needles and things and stabilises her before getting her off to hospital. She discharged herself the following day and has been a damn sight more careful what she eats since. Plus she keeps an adrenaline pen in her frickin handbag instead of under the bed.

Scared? I fucking shit myself.

Length? girth? never mind that, what about the nuts
(robreun, Thu 22 Feb 2007, 22:54, Reply)

On the beach at Portmadoc with my 4 kids
aged 4-10, we decided to walk out as far as we could alongside a spit of land, which had interesting little caves and rock pools. Kids loved it.

All went well until I noticed that the sea seemed a bit nearer than it had.

So we started back at a leisurely stroll, only to find the waves lapping at our heels.

We went a bit faster, then a bit faster again, and ended up with the 9 year old giving the 4 year old a piggyback and me dragging the other 2 along, shouting to them to dump the buckets and spades and PEG IT!

The tide came in as fast as we could run. I swear we only just made it to the beach.

A week or two later, a bloke from near our home town drowned there while rescuing a couple of kids who'd made the same mistake.

Brr - still gives me the shivers now.
(Juan Quar is clinging to her front teeth on, Thu 22 Feb 2007, 21:59, Reply)

Dreams make me poo myself
Dreams are the maddest things. The scariest thing that happen to me are things I dream about, not the dreams themselves, but the bit when you wake up and don't quite realise that it is just a dream and not actually real.

Anywayses.

The one that springs to mind was a few years back when I kipped at a mate's on his sofa. He had a cat who slept in the same room as me and it lay down with me and off we both drifted. I woke up in the middle of the night and could feel the weight of the cat on my chest, hear it purring and so on so I reached down to give him a bit of fuss, but couldn't feel the cat anywhere. I wasn't quite with it at that point so I flailed around a bit more trying to find the cat on the bed but couldn't. I could feel it's weight on me but could not find him. As I started to wake up properly the hairs started standing up on the back of my neck and eventually the wierdness of it sank in and I sat bolt upright, at which point the cat's face appeares in front of mine hissing like beelzebub and I leapt out of bed shitting myself. At that point I ACTUALLY woke up, scaring the real cat to death, and it sprang off the bed via my face making me wet my pants in real life.

Is that a first, dreaming about getting the fright of my life which woke me up and led me to getting an actual fright of my life?
(tinypod will never learn. Ever., Thu 22 Feb 2007, 21:59, Reply)

As usual, my answer is fairly similar to the actual question example.
It was loads of years ago when I was about 10 or 11. I'd been round a friend's house and we'd watched The Thing and An American Werewolf in London, both dodgy pirate videos (one or other of them was still on in the cinema). They were the first horror films either of us had watched (and you have to admit, we picked a cracking good pair of films to start with).

It was okay for my mate, we were at his house. I had to walk back home.

By myself.

In the dark (most of the streelamps weren't working).

And it was a full moon.

And the dog in a garden the other end of the road started howling at the moon and sounding exactly like the wolf in American Werewolf.

That was a bit scary.
( Afinkawan Yes I can hear you Clem Fandango, Thu 22 Feb 2007, 21:49, Reply)

Yacht delivery
I sail a fair amount and a few years back I had to pick up a yacht from denmark and take her to Hartlepool - near Newcastle (NE england for yanks).
We flew over and headed to where the yacht was to check it over. Everything was shipshape so we headed off down the baltic sea in the early evening.
Despite clear skies forcast a massive storm blew up and as the Baltic aint that deep some massive seas kicked up.
There were four of us so we instigated a watch system of an hour on deck steering alone and a hour below with your outside kit on then two hours sleep. most of which was spent putting your stuff on or taking it off.
so on my second watch I was tired and cold (minus 15ish) and all I could see was the bow light lighting up the next wave I was about to hit. and I was pissing myself. I knew there was stuf either side of us (radar and chart plotter- like an electronic map) but I couldnt see anything. I had no idea how safe the boat was and I'll admit I was pretty sure I was going to die.

That was the first time in 5 years I'd cried like a baby and the last time since.

Buts I stuck it out and we didnt die.
score.

apologies for waterline length
( Nostrebor can't be everything all the time., Thu 22 Feb 2007, 21:41, Reply)

skydiving
i got my skydiving licence in May 2006, and sadly since then havent done very many jumps (ahem i currently live on england's "tropical" north east coast). you'd think falling out of a plane in itself would be scary, but you get used to it (even ENJOY it) after the first few times. after all if i didnt enjoy it in some way i wouldnt go back to it whenever british weather clears up. however, once you've realised it's not the falling that can kill you, certain other things start to make you nervous:

* sitting in the plane. i dont like flying very much (ironic i know), and smallish planes make it worse, rocking about and all that, plus jump pilots tend to be on the more reckless side. they know it, they love it. anyway, unless the ride to altitude is quick, just sitting in the plane can be scary.

* sitting in the plane thinking about your packjob. yeah this has happened a few times. now technically i shouldn't even get NEAR the plane if im at all worried i mightve packed my chute badly. but that's not really the point, i guess everyone does it at some point, and it's only natural to think about it. most times i console myself with the fact that i AM getting out and what happens happens. then i have a fun skydive, hurray.

* falling when your helmet and goggles aren't quite as tight on your head as you would like, and you spend every couple of thousand feet trying to hold them in place. while trying to stay stable, altitude-aware, and of course wanting to deploy the parachute itself. with glasses underneath the goggles, also about to fly off. oops. same goes for when your goggles arent too tight and a contact lens flips out in freefall. that's annoying and somewhat disturbing too.

and then of course the bit that comes after the falling (cuz let's face it, dicking around in the sky is tons of fun, not scary at all, unless of course you're being spun around by your "mate" for "a laugh" in an ad-hoc bout of silliness.). so you're falling, you make some space in the sky for yourself, and you want to get the parachute out ... to date, no malfunctions, but the following moments i did not enjoy much:

* first time jumping a newish canopy, only to discover that it's about the slowest opening thing EVER. my normal parachute takes a maximum of five seconds to fully deploy. the one i tried out a couple of months back had me hanging under it for what felt like an eternity (where eternity means ten seconds), and just about ready to get rid of it and try the reserve. luckily it saved me the bother and decided to open up properly. phew.

* opening up with a heap of twists in the lines for the first time (my 38th jump, this is a bit late to start having line twists). about two seconds later (just before i started to turn my jumpsuit brown), i realised it wasnt a major problem and got rid of them. but damn was i shook up for a moment.

* and on one of the numerous times i managed to land off the dropzone, i was faced with ditching myself in a dirt-field right next to a busy road ... on a canopy smaller than ones i was fully used to at the time. i got away with a cut on my foot, and someone was nice enough to come and give me a lift back in the pick up.

happy days, blue skies, and don't do shit i wouldn't! XD
(zenmeban thinks the weather could be better, Thu 22 Feb 2007, 21:31, Reply)

I used to have a mild fear of heights
So when we were on a family holiday, driving through Arizona, and up windy roads where all that seperated you from a several hundred metre drop was a pithy row of pebbles, I was cacking myself. "Mum, can you drive a bit more in the centre of the road please?" Looking out the window all the time probably didn't help either.
(LickOutTheJamsMotherfuckers!, Thu 22 Feb 2007, 21:28, Reply)

I am pathetic
I tied my dog (staffie) up outside the sweet shop so I could buy my weekly penny sweets and my boyfriend was queing up to pay so I thought I'd go out and wait with the dog but as I went out there was a gang surrounding her so I went back into the shop for back up from the boyf. Then he went out and walk through the 10 year olds and rescued our doggy. I really dont suit the breed!
(xlux, Thu 22 Feb 2007, 21:25, Reply)

First night in my brother's house
Now, ever since I was a kid I've occasionally had nightmares about someone sneaking into my room at night and grabbing me in the dark while I'm lying in bed. It's one of the reasons why I first started sleeping with the door closed.

About six years ago I moved in with my brother and was trying to get to sleep on my first night there. Then I hear a creak, which might have been the door moving. I don't hear anything else, so assume it's just that I'm not used to the noises the house makes yet.

All of a sudden something lands on my chest and, if I hadn't been frozen with fear, I'd have screamed like a little girl. It takes a few seconds to remember that my brother has a cat and, apparently, she likes to sleep in what is now my room.

Of course, after a few months I can't sleep unless she's lying at the foot of my bed.
( Ijon Tichy, Thu 22 Feb 2007, 21:17, Reply)

Last week
On my brand new Hornet 900. Overtaking at 120mph on an A road (it's legal to break the limit if you need to overtake... er... possibly) when some complete methorfickung twat in a BMW 4x4 pulls out from a right hand turn, straight towards me.

Thank God for instinctive countersteering. Moral: There's a reason why your driving instructor told you to check left before turning left out of a T junction.

Not funny, just wanted to get it off my chest. Oh, and for the record, this post is not true, and I'm a penguin.
( Peregr1n @peregr1n, Thu 22 Feb 2007, 21:16, Reply)

Avoid gardens.
When I was a wee nipper (around 9) I was helping out my dad in the garden. He was cutting down branches of trees, and I was helping him carry them down the end of the garden so we could have a bonfire with them later. So I start carrying this fairly hefty lump of wood down the garden, when I see a snake. It was a grass snake (although I didn't know it at the time). Terrified, I ran back down the garden, only after about 20 metres did I have the presence of mind to drop the big lump of tree that I was carrying. In hindsight, I probably should have thrown it at the snake.
(LickOutTheJamsMotherfuckers!, Thu 22 Feb 2007, 21:16, Reply)

yes dear, it was very funny.
Oooh about 13 years ago when still courting the now Mrs Smorgasbord, she'd driven over to York with her friend Nat and wasn't due back until late.

I'm waiting for her to arrive back and thinking she's a pushing it a bit.

All of a sudden I get a horrible feeling of fear, for no reason, for about ten seconds. Then the phone rings: it's her, obviously very upset. I'm seriously freaked.

"Christ, what's wrong? Are you OK?"

"Yeah (sob) I'm OK, (sob) It's, it's Nat, (sob) the car, It just..."

That feeling when the mixture of horror and adrenaline reaches your feet? Fuck, I was close to passing out from it.

"HA HA HA! Only joking, I'm just dropping Nat off. Back in ten minutes"

Can't believe I still married her.


Length? Irrelevant, it's still catatonic from shock.
(smorgasbord, Thu 22 Feb 2007, 21:14, Reply)

Stuck in an abyss.
I was having a dream that involved some sort of sporting event, when I noticed something strange that made me realise it was a dream (a 3D spreadsheet on a computer screen). Consequently, I was able to take full control of my actions and decided to walk around. I was having a whale of a time... Until I saw in a mirror that I didn't have a reflection.

JESUS CHRIST! I'D BECOME A VAMPIRE! I tried my hardest to wake up, to get away from the beast I'd become. Then everything went black. I couldn't move at all. I tried to thrash around but my movements were slow and difficult. I was going to spend the rest of my life stuck in an eternal blackness.

In a last attempt to break free, moonlight flooded into my eyes and my lungs were filled with clean air. I had finally escaped from the abyss of my duvet, which had managed to somehow tangle itself around my arms and head while I was asleep.
(SpookTheHamster, Thu 22 Feb 2007, 21:04, Reply)