So lately I have been thinking a lot about my sister Kasey, who is due to give birth very very soon (yay new nephew!) and how grown up she is now. It makes me remember all the wonderful, and not so wonderful times we had together growing up. And of course, by wonderful, I mean mostly wonderful for me. I kept her and Brianna in a fairly constant state of fear of my all knowing older sister powers. The main memory I keep coming back to, however, is the day I convinced her that we had a homicidal little girl ghost living in her closet.
A little backstory: When we lived in Ness City, KS, my parents had bought this really huge old house to remodel. In my sister's room, there was a door to a closet, and above the door, I had found a skeleton key while investigating all the nooks and crannies of their room for hidden treats. The key actually fit in the door, and I thought it was the coolest. thing. ever. I didn't share this little fact with my sisters and my parents, after inspecting the key, didn't really care what I did with it, so I hid it in my Little Mermaid jewelry box for a long time. Usually when we would play dolls, or house, we would do it outside or in the girls' room because it was larger than mine since they shared. They also had the majority of the toys in their room because while I still played with them, it wasn't cool to look like I still played with them. (I was around 9 or 10 at this point) One summer afternoon, Kasey and I were playing "ghost story" dolls, which is a much more demented and horrific version of the regular game, where dolls are murderers and ghosts and vampires. Remember, I had a very vivid imagination and was fed a regular diet of Tim Burton and the original Grimms fairytales, so this game was inevitable. While playing this game, I remember my key and a horrible, amazing, idea hatched in my brain. Now because this was around 14-15 years ago, I don't remember the exact conversation, but I am sure it went something like this.
Me: Kase, guess what?
Kasey: what?
Me: No, guess!
Kasey: Nooooo, tell me. tell me tell me tell me tell me.
Me: *huge sigh* FINE.
K:....
Me:....
K:........
Me:...
K: Just tell me already!
Me: Well, I am scared to tell you, because I am scared she will hurt me.
K: Who?! Who will hurt you? Mom?
Me: No.
K:Bri?
Me: No.
K:Grandma Popsicle? Grandma Edmonds? Grandma Goodell? Aunt Ann? Mrs Nicamore (my fourth grade teacher)?
Me: No.
K: well, there aren't any other girls.
Me: Yeah huh.
K:not uh.
Me: Uh huh.
K: no there isn't!
Me: Yes there is. She lives in your closet.
K: who lives in my closet?
Me: The little girl with the bloody dress.
K: *freaking out now* What little girl? No one lives in my closet! Why can't I see her? Is she dead? You're lying to me!
Me: No, I am serious! She comes down to my room at night and talks to me. She was killed in your closet, but not before she murdered her whole family. Then they turned into ghosts and murdered her!
K: Why does she live in my closet?? Does she want to kill me?
(At this point, the dolls are completely forgotten, and we are both staring at the closed closet door, and Kasey is almost in tears)
Me: She doesn't want to kill you, she likes you. She actually wants to talk to you.
K: About what? I'm scared. Let's go outside. (That's where mum, dad, and Tay were)
Me: Well, if you don't talk to her now, you might make her mad. And remember, she lives in your closet.
K: Do I have to go in the closet?
Me: Well yeah. Duh. Here, how about this. I will let you hold my stuffed animal for protection?
K: okay
I went and got my bear and the key and went back upstairs to Kasey's room. I handed her the bear and coaxed her into the closet. I also convinced her not to turn on the closet light because it might scare the ghost away. She freaked out a little when I closed the door, but I told her it had to happen for the magic to work. My poor sister, both terrified but trusting, let me close the door. And lock it. I told her she had to stay in there about five minutes and that I would let her out. Then I went downstairs and went to the restroom, and when I came out, mum told me I had a couple chores I needed to do outside.
And I completely forgot about my poor five year old sister locked in her closet, terrified of the "ghost" in there with her. I didn't remember for about 30 minutes and I rushed inside and unlocked the closet and Kasey flew out, bawling her eyes out and ran downstairs and outside, screaming that a ghost had touched her. In reality, it was probably one of her dresses shifting on the hanger, but the damage was done and she ran straight to mum and told her everything, who gave me a very disapproving look and took my key away. It was a very sad day in my summer. Poor Kasey, though, lived in utter fear of that closet for the next couple years until my parents built them a new closet and turned theirs into a bathroom.
I am sure that Kasey is over whatever psychological damage I probably caused her by locking her in the closet for half a hour, but she still doesn't trust me when I tell her to go into a room by herself. And she sure as heck doesn't trust me when I say that something menacing is friendly and she should go talk to it/pet it/be its friend. I realize I was a terror when I was younger. But being a terror was so much more fun that playing dolls. Or house. Or doing chores.
Love you Kaseydea!
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