When I was 12, I had an irrational fear of fictitious monsters. The nightmares I had changed the organization of my room. If I were to look back for the origins of these fears, I could mention my parent’s divorce, or even my mother’s fearful nursery rhymes, or even dogma.

I was often alone at home, and in my fear, all closets and superfluous doors were closed. I also always had excessive light as if to scare away shadows. I always went to sleep with the discomfort of smothering myself of adequate air, as if blankets could truly protect me. My television was always on when I was alone, and it was probably the most influential in both the manifestation of my fears through horror movies, and also a primer to the tranquility of my mind through distraction.

My mother and I tried many things to assuage my fears. My bed was upgraded to be 5 mattresses in height (for fear of the underside). I was taken to a priest and given a daily ritual.

I no longer give claim to superstition, and sleep without my covers.