When I was a kid, my grandma lived about two hours from us and we’d often drive down to spend the weekend at her apartment. She had (still has, actually) a lot of knick-knacks that my brother and I were fascinated with, plus cool furniture like a coffee table with legs carved to look like lion paws or something. We loved those things.
However, she also had these huge, creepy metal masks hanging on the wall at the top of her stairway. They were supposed to look like African tribal masks, I think. I hated going upstairs and feeling like those masks were watching me. They had scary expressions, and I can still clearly picture how, as I climbed the stairs, the masks would gradually come into view. The closer I got to the top of the stairs, the more scared I’d get.
The worst part came at bedtime. From the bed in the spare room, I had a direct view of the masks out in the hallway. Whenever I had to sleep there, I was torn between sleeping with the door open and the masks looking at me, which was terrifying, or sleeping with the door closed in pitch blackness, which was also terrifying. I’d usually try to compromise by rolling onto my side so I couldn’t see the masks, but then I’d worry that they’d move. I’d have to roll back over to keep an eye on them. If I opted for the closed door, I’d imagine all sorts of things creeping out from under the bed. It was a no-win situation, but I never admitted to anyone that the masks scared me.
My grandma still has those masks, but now they hang on the main bedroom wall of her apartment. When I see them, they aren’t nearly as big as I always remember them and don’t seem so hostile. They are actually kind of cool, and not the thing you expect to find in a little 93 year old lady’s apartment.
Now my daughter is scared of them and always opts to sleep on the pull-out sofa rather than on the extra bed in my grandma’s room when we visit!