I have no idea what made me such a fearful person in this world. It could have easily been the relentless pranks conducted by my dad or, it could have been my premature watchings of horror movies. Whatever the cause, I am and will always be afraid of being alone.

Be it home alone or just mentally feeling lonely in the world, I have never been to keen to the feeling.

Even now at the age of 16, I still get goosebumps at the thought of being alone in my house at night. However, I do handle the situation better than I did when I was young. Now I just lock myself in my room, praying optimistically that neither intruder nor ghost thinks to look in there.

However coolly I handle the situation nowadays, though, I still get a fright every time I am placed in that situation.

Just last summer, I was left home alone all day. This was a bad decision on my parents' part if you don't understand. Anyway, I was home alone, uncomfortable as always when I hear a noise.

I should point out that my house is really creaky and scary as crap because of it.

I hear a noise and its scares the heebie-jeebies out of me. In a second, I have my Samurai sword in hand, poised to take out any intruder.

I hear a second noise, louder than the first.

Now at this point in time I think I am about to die. I didn't know whether it would be at the hand of a robber or an evil spirit, but it doesn't matter. For either way, I was scared shitless.

Hesitantly I climb onto my sister's bed, sword still in hand, and attempt to open the window beside her bed. The only good thing about the fact if I was ever to be attacked at home, is that I have an escape route from my room; a window that goes out onto the roof.

However, for some reason, the window just wasn't opening. I tried and I tried, yet it wouldn't open.

Again, at this point I was sweating bullets, feeling like as if I was racing against the clock, almost as if any minute Chuckie would burst through the door.

Finding the window unable to open, I succumb to my fate. Thus, I lie down and wait for death.

Yet after another sound comes, I know my fight isn't over.

I jumped up on the bed, sword raised, run stealthily into my parents' room, grab the phone, and then run back into my room.

At this moment, I call my friend who lives down the street and recounted the whole tale to her.

Having known how nice she is and how scared she also is of being alone, I knew she would help. Thus, she agreed to come to my house and keep me comfortable.

Let it be known that this wasn’t the first time I have called my friends for comfort.

Once two winters ago, I had been so scared, I hid behind the Christmas tree for protection. From there I called a friend to come over and comfort me. She did and, as a result, I did not die.

About a year ago I had gone to the bathroom when and I had heard a noise while washing my hands. And because of this, I stayed in the bathroom for 45 minutes longer, hiding in the tub, without my phone.

I am completely ashamed of these stories but unafraid to tell them.

I hope these stories make you feel not so bad about your biggest fear.

P.S. I am writing this while I am home alone.