Nature's Warning: Earthquake Rocks East Coast

Nature’s Warning: Earthquake Rocks East Coast

By Nomar Knight

An ungodly rumbling caused more than the east coast to tremble.  The recent earthquake, which originated in Virginia, did more than disrupt everyone’s routine.  The blast of nature assisted in shedding light on the possibility of an extreme change for life as we know it.  What most people hate to admit, lies inside them, rose to the surface as many grew terrified of the possibility that the end of the world, or perhaps a catastrophic terrorist attack was at play. 

Moments after the event, I received a call from a loved one.  I heard the fear in her voice.  The older a person gets, the more aware they become of their mortality.  At that moment, I was at a loss to find the words that would comfort her.

My mind wandered with the images she described, first of how she visited her brother and sat with her husband in a loveseat.  Their familiar encounter literally shaken as the building swayed, and their loveseat trembled.  Shock quickly transformed to sheer panic, and instead of looking to position over a doorway, or dive under solid furniture, they said their goodbyes and headed to the same place the majority went to, the crowded streets. 

Images of concrete breaking open and swallowing people as they danced for their lives, doing their best to negotiate each new crater, popped in my mind.  As I listened to her tormented account, I envisioned skyscrapers collapsing all around them.  I felt hopeless when the best advice I could offer was for them to remain outside, away from buildings for at least an hour. 

Perhaps my advice would have been useless if the situation were worse, but the one thing I do know from personal experience is that when our number is up, there’s nothing we could do to change the outcome.  Death waits for no one and eventually, will meet us all. 

Nevertheless, I’m pleased that as of this writing, the situation did not get worse and that no one got hurt.  Yet I can’t help but wonder what the underlying purpose of the event could be.  Was the seismic event that got everyone’s attention just a prelude to the end of the world? 

While the scientists look for answers, I’ll chalk it up to nature’s way of providing us with a wakeup call.  My advice, live life as if each moment is your last.

Catch you on the dark side

Nomar Knight

© Copyright Nomar Knight 2011. All rights reserved.

Fear the Unknown

Fear the Unknown

By Nomar Knight

Once again I find myself on the short end of the stick, wondering when people are going to learn to accept fate for what it is.  It’s a cruel, but necessary learning process.  My name is Mr. Coffin.  I teach high school English.  Every year I’m forced to move to a new school because where I reside, common sense doesn’t exist.  I perform to the best of my abilities.  Gain popularity with the students, and yet, I don’t even have a classroom. 

It amazes me how my students constantly overachieve in the standardized tests, yet the mediocre teachers continue to get rewarded.  So as I sit in my Honda, wondering how I can change my luck, a thought occurs to me.  I haven’t identified the enemy.  At first glance, it appears that another frightened teacher, unwilling to deal with the unknown, used her feminine tears to convince the powers that be to screw me again.  At least, that’s how other teachers will view her act of treachery.  Too bad they don’t know that I’m not an ordinary teacher.  In fact, I am no ordinary human. 

At last, the troubled teacher arrives in her grey vehicle.  A hint of sorrow touches my heart for I hate to see anyone cave in to fear.  I mumble to myself, “Best put this one out of her misery.”

I open the glove compartment and brush my fingers on the handle of a seven inch blade.  I stare at her as she finally exits her car. 

Danger!

My heart races and slams against my chest.  The anticipation of blood causes my manhood to begin to rise.  Images of brutal beatings bombard my mind.  It feels as if my darkest thoughts become reality.  I see myself moving in slow motion.  Another version of me hurries to the teacher and plunges the blade in her spine.  I even hear my imitator whisper, “How does it feel to get stabbed in the back?”

A horn blows, regaining my attention.  In the far distance I hear a tormented soul scream for her life.  For one instant, as the haze clears, an alternate reality seals off the visions and I sit in my vehicle.  My fingers stroke not the handle of a knife, but of a hairbrush. 

I take a deep breath and watch as the troubled teacher carries books up the stairs.  I grin, thankful that in this dimension, violence usually is the byproduct of poor choices.  Perhaps in an alternate universe I committed an unspeakable act, but in my current existence, I choose to meet fear of the unknown head-on.  I choose to rise to whatever challenges life has to offer.  As I retrieve a briefcase from the trunk of my car I mumble, “Lord, protect me from evil.”

I go to the office, ready to take on the groups that the frightened teacher left behind.  I wonder if I am given a classroom, how many rodents will come out of hiding to greet me.

Invasion of Fear

"You can discover what your enemy fears most by observing the means he uses to frighten you."-- Eric Hoffer

What scares you? Spiders crawling on your bed while you sleep with your mouth open? They inch their way up your legs but you don’t feel them because you’re too busy dreaming something you’ll hope to forget before you wake. While you run around puddles of dirt water in your vague nightmare, the spiders reach your neck. Unconsciously you bat away a couple of web crawlers, never being fully aware of the real danger that rests just inches from your chin. Unbeknown to you, one spider remains poised to enter a chamber of snoring echoes; a chamber filled with a warm intriguing darkness—your mouth.

While you do your best in the world of dreams to avoid the ever growing puddles because you know that if you step in one, you will fall into an abyss filled with pain and misery. In fact, you’re sure a demon waits, salivating for the opportunity to strip you of all dignity. He will expose your faults and even worse, make you relive your nerve-racking fears. While you wrestle with a fantastic and seemingly never ending nightmare, in real life, the spider enters your mouth. Out of sheer instinct, you shut the opening, preventing the insect from escaping. Feeling something in your mouth, you begin to chew, because in your dream, while you jump over puddles, miraculously avoiding them, you bite down on a Slim Jim and savor the salty taste. It’s only when you swallow, your eyes open to familiar surroundings. The thing still mixing with saliva in your mouth, doesn’t taste like the piece of processed meat. Instead you jump from your bed and turn on the lights. At first your eyes can’t make out the distinctive shapes, but just when you think nothing happened and that you’re mixing your dreams with reality, you spot two web crawlers. You cringe when witnessing their wide bodies crawling on the sheets, searching for their companion.

Screams fill the air. Screams of terror bounce off the objects in your room. As if your horrible reality wasn’t enough, you realize, something was in your mouth. You rush into the bathroom, turn on the lights and examine it. You gag when you spot a thin thread stuck between your teeth. No, not a thread, but a spider’s leg. Convulsions lead you to the toilet where your body forcibly dispels the monster that invaded it. A morbid thought pops into your mind. You are what you eat. “Yuck!” In addition to the exhausting act of vomiting, you spit until you can’t spit anymore. You brush your teeth, thrice, making sure to floss like never before and rinse with plenty of mouthwash.

At last you’re about to go back to bed when you realize, two more spiders are still there, but you can’t see them. They’re hiding, waiting for you to go back to sleep, back to the puddles, back to falling into the abyss.

*
So what scares you? Is it sneaky insects daring to explore your insides? Or perhaps, strange noises in the night that seem to prop up without any acceptable explanation? Maybe you see pronounced silhouettes of blackness prancing about in the dark? They toy with you and pull the covers off your feet just when you’re in the throes between consciousness and sleep. You ignore the shadows as best you can until you feel the bed indent. Something lies next to you. You tell yourself, how can that be? But you know, your spouse hasn’t stirred, and is in fact, snoring. Then it rises and the pressure on the mattress is released. You want to scream but don’t for fear of looking foolish.

So when you write horror, write what you know, write about what scares you the most. It’ll be like going to battle; you versus yourself. If you frighten yourself then there’s a good chance others will be terrified.

Sweet dreams and don’t let the bedbugs bite.

Nomar Knight

Horror’s Possible Ramifications

"Horror is beyond the reach of psychology."-- Theodor Adorno

Meaning the science of psychology cannot undo the psychological damage that horror, either real life or fictional, inflicts. Let us examine some of the physical aspects of horror. Sweaty palms which lead to every part of the body covered in perspiration. A rapid heartbeat that makes people believe they are going to die of cardiac arrest. A sudden inability to move limbs, followed by the realization if they move, they would draw unwanted attention; perhaps leading to a dangerous hesitation that can lead to a volatile confrontation. Involuntary movement, such as knees buckling and knocking against each other; spasms shaking arms and neck, or a sudden tick developing in the face, all are telltale signs of physical fear.

The physiology behind fear is one thing, but there’s no substitute for what horror can do to the human psyche. I’m not a psychologist but if real life traumatic events wouldn’t affect the surviving victims, then why must they afterwards consult a psychologist or psychiatrist?

I agree with Theodor Adorno’s statement. Horror’s psychological ramifications, even if it’s just fictional horror, can trigger phobias that could affect a person their entire lives. Watch a movie about millions of insects roaming on people and acting out of character and you may develop a sudden awareness of the possibility of malice originating from any similar creature. And therein lays the key word: possibility.

Horror writers enjoy delving in possible outcomes, slowly feeding the mind fantastic, yet plausible scenarios until somewhere in the deep recess of the mind; the audience accepts the possibility as probable. Something like rodents attacking a household is highly unlikely but if some kind of chemical, unbeknownst to everyone, was released in the air and altered their behavior, then what was once possible becomes probable and therefore, in the audience’s mind, can in fact, be accepted as a plausible threat. Any threat considered viable may have a deep psychological impact.

There are many phobias, all of which may have profound psychological affects, all of which can be utilized by the skilled writer to wreak havoc on the reader’s psyche, even if it’s only while they immerse themselves in the fictional world.

So my friends, if you find yourself with a sudden infestation of insects. Bugs that suddenly move out in the open without fearing for their survival, then just maybe, horror has found its way into your reality.

Until next time,


Nomar Knight

Lost and Afraid

Mazeophobia is the fear of getting lost. When I was young, I hated getting lost. There was something about being in unfamiliar territory. I despised the body's mechanism for advertising my stress. I'd wipe my sweaty palms off my jeans, all the while searching my surroundings, wide eyed. It wasn't long before probing eyes would glare in my direction, probably wondering what was wrong. Of course, I took the penetrating stares to be an invasion of my person. An attempt by aliens to abduct me and take me to an even stranger place. Then there was the fear that instead of concerned humans encircling me to lend a helping hand, that they'd be something monstrous like witches, vampires and werewolves. I'd heard the stories about children who'd go missing after getting lost. I was determined that wouldn't happen to me. No way I was going to let some monster eat me and wipe me off the face of the earth.

Some years later, I recall being in a car with someone that still had Mazeophobia. Of course, the fact that I seemed in control didn't mean I was cured; better perhaps, but not cured. Anyway, we wandered off from the desired destination and because of my refusal to ask for directions, I am a man after all, she had a fit. Curses spewed my way, loud shouts of nonsense words I automatically tuned out. I wanted to shut her up. Violent thoughts entered my mind, briefly, but then I recalled my childhood and my fear of getting lost. When the woman realized I was calmer than ever, she stopped screaming and asked, "You know where we are? You must know because you're so calm." I nodded, "Of course I know where I am." With raised eyebrows she asked, "Where are we?" I struggled to fight off a grin. Looking straight ahead at uncharted territory, I no longer saw the dangers of getting lost. I no longer worried about the boogie men who waited outside of my safe car for me to step out and become a victim; another statistic of a lost soul disappearing into an abyss of evil. I loosened my grip on the steering wheel, tilted my head towards the frightened lunatic and in a calm, soft voice said, "I know exactly where we are. We're in my car."

I expected her to attack with a barrage of punches, but instead she sat quietly, staring at the dashboard. I broke her trance with the most confident voice I could muster, "I'll find the place. I promise."

Through clenched teeth she said, "If you don't ask someone for directions, I swear I'll kill you, leave your body here in this Godforsaken place and I'll tell everyone you went missing because you got out to pee and got lost. The authorities will believe me, cause I'm a woman." Her eyes bulged from their sockets. I swear I saw a vein pulsating on the side of her head.

I spotted an elderly gentleman, lowered the window, bit the bullet, and asked him for directions. The old man threw us off further from our intended destination. Before the woman could get another panic attack, I calmly said, "I will find the place because the force is with me."

Experience has shown me that the world really is a small place.


Nomar Knight