A tale to end the night
The kids, they call me names. I know because I hear them when they pass my front yard. I know because they write in graffiti on the walls of my house. I know because, when I was a kid I used to do the same to people like myself.
I can't blame them.
They call me "Voldemort", "el diablo blanco" , "old man creepy" and countless other names. I enjoy it.
"Why?" you might ask.
Because I know something they don't. I know the real reason they need me to be some mythical, diabolical creature. The reason is primordial and cold: FEAR. The kids can't live in fear, they wash it like they're made of soap, they dodge it and run and run, slaloming between fears.
They forget about it , they put in a box, they cry and then the fear is gone. They're as good as new!
I am no longer a weird old man who might hurt them, I'm Voldemort forever to be defeated by Harry Potter. I am a "diablo" and if for you might seem counter intuitive, they now have power over me.
They are now free of me and can hit me with snowballs. They can leave smoking rags at my door or put toilet paper in my garden. I don't mind it though because they don't matter.
What REALLY matters is their parents. Oh, they listen to the kids and laugh it off but still, they wonder. What IS it with that old man? They don't need a lot of fear, just a bit finding its way into their souls and from there, it can grow. Their fear is septic, it invades everywhere, it takes over, it keeps them awake. They know I'm not a wizard or a succubus. But they don't know what I am either...
So, I smile. I smile when I take the garbage out in the black bag and you watch me, wondering if there's trash in there or body parts or if that's blood or dirty water. You wonder if your kid is safe. you wonder how can you protect him.
The next time, you'll watch again, you'll look for clues, you'll try to figure it out. You'll see things, you'll imagine things and your fear will grow. you'll become, slow at first but then faster more and more obsessed.
In time, the kids will move out and it will be just you and your obsession. Oh yes, that's just yours, not to be shared with the world.
The longer it goes, the more you give it space in your soul, the bigger it gets. Day by day by day until....
...you wake up and the kids are calling you names and the parents are looking strangely at you.
And only then, you'll smile too.
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razvanelul - content creator.
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