My very own phobia...big M

Its one of those dark, deep secrets,hidden and decaying for years.The lies and deceit throughout adult life,not wanting to acknowledge to anyone that your fear causes personal paralyses or even wetting one,s pants.This time around I was caught redhanded,crying silent tears,too petrified to utter a sound. As I was down and out with influenza the whole week,I slept most of the daytime due to the medication,come late evening, awake but lethargic and bodyaching.Lying in the dark this night,I felt it...something nestling into my matted hair,which wasnt combed for days, moving,picking on my scalp.Now crawling to my ear...Play dead i thought but rather cried instead......Lord!wont you help me please?... my silent plea.Its on my face, all around my nostrils.cant move,make a sound or just wish it away.My bedroom light goes on...Mom there,s a mouse on your head...where it went, I do not know but I was found..pillow soaked with tears and mute. The teasing began but this I could take amidst screams of laughter, I had to admit my greatest fear.All those pentup escapades that no one knew ,started the ball rolling anew. Yes now I could talk because of the support...Mid twenties..,young,single and very much still available.I stood at the then Mowbray bus terminal on route home. Some youngman tapped my shoulder.Conceited me,not dareing to look,never could stand the arrogant ones..Yet he did it again.The look I gave had no effect , as with a huge grin on face he simply said ....there,s a mouse on your jacket,s collar.The commotion that followed...couldnt tell them all this night, being the victim of rodentia phobia. Just wished then, I didnt have to see that youngman ever again..How I must have, hijacked that mouse from Town, through the train, till there.Still gives tingles of fear to this day. So ladies,thirty years hence, do take note, where your jacket hangs during the day, as its so easy for my phobia to want to take a nap in a pocket or two. Also , if I come visiting, think nothing of it when you see me stamping my feet,its our little secret... in which he allows me to win...I hate big bad mice. Late the evening I could still hear,sneers of laughter coming from my daughters room...but she dare not go there anyday soon... as she knows, I know of all her eccentric talks in her sleep..a big fat blog..lets wait and see.