been reading the sequel of "talisman" by stephen king and peter straub entitled "black house."
somewhere in the middle of the book i started stealing furtive glances at the half-open door. for some reason i expected something totally horrible to stick its head in.
i wanted to get up and shut the door but i couldn't make myself move. then i decided that for just one night i will not brush my teeth. and i kept on reading.
it's weird because the story is not particularly scary. as far as stephen king books go, the shining and salem's lot still seem scarier. and yet there i was huddled under a blanket and a comforter. keeping my back to the wall and practically trembling.
it doesn't help that i get pictures in my head. anything i read, i can visualize. in living color. so maybe it was just my imagination working overtime. for someone who doesn't scare easily, being scared is something most unwelcome. and it was unwelcome.
eventually i managed to talk myself into brushing my teeth, switching off the light and closing the door. but i kept tossing and turning just the same.
sigh. 200 pages to go. my fear would probably be enough to power the whole of monstropolis for the week.