Butt Goblins in the Night

For some reason, I've been convinced that every noise in my house that takes place at night is, in fact, a ghost or a monster, about to attack me. Every shadow, every creak, every slam, every footstep-sounding noise, and, of course, every coyote or owl outside.

I live out in the middle of nowhere, and it gets really dark and really windy. The wind makes it through the cracks in my window, making really loud whistling noises. Every time the dog moves or takes a step, the floor shakes, which makes my gigantic sliding double doors shake, which, despite the fact that I am basically a grown person, makes me shake like a leaf and yank the covers over my head. 

We also have a door in the kitchen that leads to the garage that has no handle. The wind gets in through the side door and blows it open and sucks it shut, making big slams. I also now refuse to get out of bed in the middle of the night unless it's an emergency and I have to. I pass too many un-curtained windows for my liking, and I'm convinced that, out of each and every one of them, I'm going to see a horrific demon or ghost or butt goblin or something staring back at me. 

I also recently discovered that, when my dog needs to go outside in the middle of the night, he makes a noise that sounds extremely similar to a raspy old man saying, "Hello?" The first time I realized this, I called my dad, waking him up, telling him to get downstairs immediately. I do not feel bad, as I probably would've wet the bed out of sheer terror had I not called him. 

It's gotten so bad that, instead of falling asleep in the with all the lights off and nothing but quiet and house/animal noises, I put on a movie to fall asleep to. Always a funny one. Who dies watching a funny movie? It's always someone listening to Hank Williams or something. So I avoid country music at all costs, and pop in some Seth Rogen movies or some American Pie or something, and shake like a leaf until I finally fall asleep. 

You know...I slept with a night light until I was nine or so, and I slept with a radio until I was thirteen. I was always scared of the dark, and I imagine I didn't grow out of it because my dad would wait until I was almost asleep and throw a dark blanket over himself, limping into my room and making scary noises. Sometimes, he would hit the deck and quickly crawl. His goal in life was to terrify me for his own amusement, at all ages and points of my life. So, yes. I'm still afraid of the dark.

Guys, did I mention I'm seventeen?