All Aboard the Crazy Train

During my Mom's "single years", the five years between her divorce and re-marriage, we were home alone a lot. My sister, 3.5 years older than me, was in her dark and twisty phase then. She really enjoyed wearing thick black eyeliner and she listened to Ozzy Osbourne constantly.  She used to play his albums over and over and I could hear them clearly through the bedroom wall. Any time an Ozzy song comes on an oldies station nowadays I can sing along, I know every word. I like to show off when this happens but inside I know I'm just a poser. I was never a fan, I was absolutely terrified of him. I remember trying to summon the courage to look at the album cover. You know the one, Ozzy is crouching with blood all over his face and there is an upside-down cross hanging on the wall. My sister and her friends loved the nights when our mom wasn't home.  They would turn off all the lights in the house and play "Mr. Crowley" as loud as they could and wander through the house with candles. I remember staying in my room with the light on, trying to think about anything other then what was going on around me. I wondered what I was missing, some brand of courage that everyone possessed but me. Even J wasn't afraid and she was only a year older than me. Once they turned off the power so we had no lights, not even in my room. I think my sister's creepy boyfriend did it. I closed my eyes and surrendered. I don't remember anything else.

Photo by rosiehardy