I CAVED

I gave in. On the third hour of doing case studies in class today I decided anything would be more appealing...even.. Blogging! I glanced over at my good friend Sarah working diligently in class. I recalled her having a blog..she has it together you know and so thats when I did it. The decision was made. Thank you Sarah. For your oblivious encouragement.
I sped home on my bicycle with caution wishing I remembered my bike light (the intense crash over the 'hidden curb still haunts me) gazing up at the clear sky.
You know when your driving and you get home and you realize you had been spacing out for the last 10 minutes while your driving. This hobby is much more dangerous on your bicycle...
Anyways the car saw me and I made it home..to the BIKE SHED
I have a weird relationship with our bike shed. I love and appreciate this building for taking care of star...my bike.--> Its a TREK. Get it?
I've developed the perfect skill of quickly sliding my bike into the shed without ever stepping foot into it.
I know its just a shed but for those of you who don't know I was locked into a shed as a child. Please don't laugh...it was TRAUMATIZING.
Long story short..ish we had new neighbors. Being the sweet, innocent 8 year old that I was I felt it would be a good idea to welcome the potential hide and seek players to the neighborhood. After the awkward introductions we were instant buddies. Judy, your typical eight year old bully. I wanted to be on her side so she didnt steal my gramn crackers at lunch. Her punk older brother was in the picture as well at this point as well. His shoes were way to big for his feet and you could see his boxers so I thought I should probably do what he said.
It went something like...
POB: (Punk Older brother) Nikki will you grab the soccer ball
Nikki: Sure Todd where is it
Bully: In the shed

I skipped delightfully to retrieve the soccer ball. I turned around to find the tormentors slamming the shed doors and latching the lock. You might be thinking that this story is getting a little long. But...I was in that shed for 3 hours! Three hours when your 8 is not a healthy time period to be in a shed with tools and various weapons hanging from the ceiling.
Which reminds me that the POB decides it would be a good idea to jump on the shed to encourage my hysteria. Some metal device falls directly on my head cutting into my skull. (It was probably like a paper cut but there was blood)
Long story short I finally resorted to breaking their window in the shed to escape.
I give credit to my Father for these dramatic ideas, taking me to rated PG 13 and often times R movies while he was supposed to be taking me to Fox and the Hound...

I believe this is why being inside a shed frightens me.

(the names in this story have been changed to protect these criminals.)