Ruled By Fear - Jan 31 2025

 

Ruled By Fear

Jan 31 2025



Standing at the top

braced against the frame

I would peer down through the open door,

eyeing warily

a set of steep narrow stairs

disappearing into the gloom.

They creaked, no matter how softly I stepped,

as if announcing the presence

of an uninvited guest

an unwelcome intruder.

The air changed abruptly

as I descended,

breaking the plane

between the warm air mass above

and the cool damp

sitting heavily below.

Between the kitchen’s savoury scent

and the subterranean must

of mildew and mouse droppings,

old hockey gear

infused with sweat.

I ducked

but still banged my head

on the heavy joists of darkly burnished wood,

rough cut

from old growth timber.

The concrete floor was cold, hard, and unevenly poured,

the walls

cinderblock.

But I’m told that before we came

it was dirt,

and an old coal furnace

rumbled in a corner

spewing soot and toxic smoke.

I suppose cellar

would be more appropriate.

Or perhaps crypt, sepulchre, catacomb.

And my childhood imagination

just made it worse;

straining to hear

scurrying feet and sinister moans

as I fumbled for the light switch.

The brush of spider silk

across my face

would rocket me instantly back

vowing never to return.

Which I can’t

ever since the old house burned.

Ever since the creepy-crawlies that thrived down there,

the rodents

that scurried and fought

and gnawed on the wiring,

and the spirits of the dead

that stalked zombie-like

through its cramped confines

either fled

or were caught unaware.

There’s no going back, they say.

Yet I remember this place

with chilling clarity.

Because fear and revulsion

leave the strongest impression.

Because in childhood

everything is bigger

and more intense.

So while the rest of the house is vague,

the basement

is vivid as ever.

And I’m still looking down

apprehensively,

still cocking my ears for threats.

Find myself going warily

into the unknown

and imagining worse.

Even when I know better.

Even when I know

that ghosts don’t exist

spiders aren’t threatening

and no one’s out to get me.

That the only enemy

lies within.