under my bed
When I was very young I learnt about pirhanas at the same time a washing detergent company had a TV ad featuring cartoon enzymes that munched the dirt off clothes in the washing machine. Somehow the two got linked in my mind, and thought that when the lights were off that the floor was covered in 'enzymes' that could eat my bones clean in 30 seconds. I had to jump from the hallway onto my bed without touching my carpet or they'd get me.
When I was little I thought that there was a hand that lived under my bed. I refused to walk on the floor of my bedroom for over a year. I would jump from the door to a chair and onto my bed.
I shared a room with my older sister. She had our brother hide under the bed one night. I had to go to the bathroom, the chair was too far away and she refused to pick me up and put me outside the door. I finally worked up the courage to step on the floor and my brother reached out and grabbed me. I peed all over him. But after that I wasn't afraid of the hand because I thought it had been my brother down there the whole time.
There was a time in my young, impressionable life that I watched an inordinate amount of television. During one evening's sojourn into the Idiot Box, I happened to peruse a commercial for a lovely chocolate confection called a Chunky due to its large and solidly square shape. The advertisement then showed a Chunky growing larger and larger, accompanied by loud thudding sounds. This somehow horrified my prepubescent synapses, and was thereby transposed by my naivete into an under-the-bed monster which lasted throughout not only my horrified childhood, but also the childhood of my sisters offspring, as she told them the story of the hideous Chunky that awaits the appearance of tiny toes over the side of the bed should they try to get out of it during the night.
A candy bar that eats children.
To this day, I have never eaten a Chunky.
I used to believe that Gene Simmons (from the band KISS) lived under my bed. He was really nice to me as long as I laid on my stomach and held my hands a certain way underneath my pillow! Bizarre.
When I was five or six years old, my mom noticed that I was very fidgety before I went to sleep. In reality, I moved my feet around as much as possible because I was afraid miniature leprechauns were going to steal my toes. I think this was the result of an unnatural fear of the "This Little Piggy" game, too many Lucky Charms, and a highly overactive imagination.
I convinced my little brother that Michael Jackson is under his bed. Now, the poor kid freaks out if he even sees Michael on TV. Well, Michael Jackson IS pretty creepy!
I used to believe that there were 3 people that lived under my bed. On the outside edge, there were two scientists. There were constantly scheming on how to do experiments on me but they could only reach me if I were to just walk up to the edge of the bed and get in. Apparently they weren't "allowed" to get out from under the bed, only to reach out with their arms. They also could only "get" me if while I was in the bed, I allowed my hand or foot to dangle over the edge. So I of course would run and jump onto the bed from as far back as possible. Then there was the Carrot Man. He was a happy guy that lived in the center under my bed. He had a long white beard and just layed there surrounded by carrots and eating them all day and night. I have no idea where any of these characters came from in my bizarre imagination. I am however a science teacher today. Go figure.
I believed the shark from Jaws lived under my bed at night. To avoid being bitten by this large ocean-roaming eating machine, I constructed elaborate Rube Goldberg-esque systems to turn off the light switch across the room from my top bunk. Ultimately, the systems would fail (scotch tape does weaken over time). I would be petrified about jumping as fast as I could to the light switch and back to the bunk. I had bruises on my stomach for a full year from missing the bunk -- which, I suppose, was better than being attacked by a shark in my bedroom in upstate New York's dairy and grape-growing region.
As a child I'd go to sleep cuddled in a ball because I thought there were Lions and Tigers and Bears at the end of my bed, waiting to eat my feet. I grew up in South Africa, so it seemed a possible situation. One night I woke up at about 3am SCREAMING. My parents ran in to see what was wrong and I told them the Lions were trying to get me. It turned out to be our 4 new kittens who were playing under my covers!!
I was never afraid of the Boogie Man as a child. Being a child of the 70's, I was well familiar with disco and I just figured he was someone who came into your room late at night dressed in sequins who wanted to dance with you.
I was about eight years old when the towers had been hit and the search was on for Osama Bin Laden. One night, as my parents and I sat down for the news, a man came on the air and said "we have looked everywhere for him." I was stunned. I knew they had missed a spot: under my bed. For months after that I was scared to death of going anywhere near my bed because i was convinced it was Osama Bin Laden's hiding spot.
My older sister told me an earthquake was an animal that hid under your bed and shook because it was scared. She even helped me put food out so it could be my pet.
When i was little, my parents had a water bed. Everytime my dad would have to add more water, i would go and hide under my bed because i thought an alligator lived inside my parents waterbed and that it would get out and eat me.
My (well-meaning) auntie thought it would be a treat for me to stay up and watch the late night movie with her whilst she was babysitting. It happened to be Dracula, and I was only 6. My parents were surprised to find me in bed the next morning with crusifixes drawn all over my neck in biro......
I believed that while I slept, there was a man who lived in the light fixture in the ceiling who wore a pith helmet, and if I slept on my back and kept my mouth open, he would throw oranges in my mouth, which would not have been good.
When i was a kid, my Dad would tell me that the monster under the bed was going to get me if I was bad.
My Mom said if I left out some cookies by the bed, it would leave me alone. Well my Dad would come in at night and eat the cookies. That would only scare me more. I asked him why the monster would eat the cookies. His answer would always be... well if you were bad that day, you were lucky to leave out the cookies so the monster would'nt get you.
Thanks mom and dad for driving me to zanex.
Until I was about 10, I used to be convinced my great-grandma lived under my bed and that if I dangled my feet, she would pull me under and kill me. A recent talk with my mom, I found out she had the same belief!
This isn't technically UNDER my bed, but...for quite a few years, I believed that if I didn't have my arms under the bedcovers, the KGB would break into the house and cut my arms off. (Why the KGB? My family listened to lots of religious radio shows, and one of them was about little Soviet children and their families who were being persecuted for their faith. Thanks a lot.)
I used to believe that the No Clothes Monster lived under my bed (he looked sort of like Gollum from Lord of the Rings). If I ever stood completely naked in my room, he would get me. So when I changed my underwear I was very careful to keep one leg in the old pair until I got a new pair on. I probably did this until I was twelve or so.
I believed that the monsters under my bed just wanted company. I was afraid that they'd grab my legs and drag me under to live with them if they got bored or unhappy, so I would always make sure to leave extra blanket hanging over the bed for them, and I'd talk to them a few times a week to dissuade them from kidnapping me.