Anne Frank to Bridget Jones
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Its summer now and Im one happy girl. Well. Almost happy.
No matter how happy I am summer always brings a nighttime
terror with it. And the name of the terror is mottophobia.
I dont know how it started. I cant remember any traumatic
event with the little buggers, those grotesque butterflies
of the night. I feel like ive always had the fear. Ive been
in a few terrifying situations before, but nothing is like
the panic I feel when I see it. Large alien eyes, powdery
velvet speckled wings, plump grey body. I feel my heart
racing thinking about them.
Ive talked to another girl with mottophobia before. What we
agree on wholeheartedly is that they know. Oh yes, they
know. They can sense your fear, your hyper revulsion. I was
at a family thing one time a few years back. It was july,
dusk, I was chatting in the kitchen with a crowd of people.
I see a shadow streak across the room and quickly look up.
And there it is, flying sporatically around like the
derranged little abomination that it was. I let out a
scream and run for the back door, shutting the screen door
behind me. And when I turned around I see it there
fluttering on the screen. It had chased me. The little
predator was after me.
Of course people that night didnt understand. Overreacting
Lindsay. Weird Lindsay. If it were a spider or a cockroach,
then they might understand. But who is scared of a moth?