Prompt: Write about a time when you were really, really scared -- whether or not it was for a good reason.

A suburban St. Paul, MN living room, in the fall of 1967;
the ROAR of a school bus driving past.
A MOTHER sits on a couch, folding laundry; she has been watching her favorite soap operas on a small black and white television across the room: The Edge of Night, Secret Storm. Two toddlers babble as they roam about the room. The woman glances at the front door, then turns back to light a cigarette and fold clothing.

S.E., an impossibly tall, skeletally thin first-grader, enters the room and walks immediately and wordlessly to stand two inches from the television. MUSIC from a Gothic Soap Opera http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WvO1b3f4DGs swells from the television.

As the camera pans around and in for a close-up, we see fear in S.E.’s eyes. She appears to be nothing but a gigantic pair of eyes, and the camerawork zooms in to emphasize this. The eyes seem to be repelled and fascinated at the same time by the show. They are haunted, full of dread, with dark shadows underneath, and thin blue veins showing through the taught skin of her temples. The eyes do not blink.

The camera pans out to take in the whole room.
(cheerily, while striding through the room
and snapping off the television)
How was school, hony? Let’s go have a snack. You don’t want
to watch this show, no wonder you can’t get to sleep at night!

Sonja doesn’t move, nor does she take her eyes off the blank television screen.
(softly, almost inaudibly)
No. No snack.

End Scene.

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