Shaken
South African seasons are not as pronounced as in some other countries. Darkness falls between 6 and 7 pm every night no matter what the time of year. Our little family moved a lot when I was young. We were never anywhere long enough to put down proper roots. This was normal for me. Thankfully we didn’t move cities so I didn’t have to change school.
We watched a fair amount of television in our house. There weren’t many channels but that didn’t really matter. We appreciated what we had. On this particular night, my parents sat watching an episode of Dallas downstairs as I brushed my teeth. It was not long past 9 pm but school nights meant it was my bedtime. I didn’t mind. This was the 80s so there were no devices to distract me. Other than my Tomytronic Tron game, I wasn’t really into all that stuff. I preferred the outdoors much like most kids of that era. Exploring our neighbourhood and getting up to all kinds of mischief was our thing. I had some great friends who remain so to this day.
I loved my massive double bed. I remember this being the only time I had one. I was equal parts lucky and unlucky to be an only child. No one to have to share with but also, no one to share with. Bedtime was a chance to replay all the things I had done that day. Simple pleasures during a fairly simple time.
As usual, I lay there staring at the wall. The light from my parents’ room beamed in through my open door. I preferred it to be open as I was not a fan of the dark. My eyes drifted down to the foot of my bed and locked on to the shape of my feet under the duvet. Slowly, my eyes closed but as I was starting to drift off I felt my bed move. Only slightly but it definitely moved.
My eyes shot open as I lay there wondering if what I had just felt was my imagination or actual movement. Once again my eyes locked on the shape of my feet under the duvet. This time my heart was beating fast. The adrenaline was pumping as I waited for confirmation that I wasn’t dreaming. Then something absolutely terrifying happened. The bottom of my bed started to jump up and down as I watched. This was real. I wasn’t dreaming.
Having seen The Excorcist at an entirely inappropriate age a few years before, I immediately reached the obvious conclusion that our house was haunted. I’m sure many would have felt the same. I leapt out of bed and almost slid down the stairs in haste trying to get to the safety of my parents. Imagine my shock when I bowled into the lounge and found that my parents were not there.
At this point, the ball of fear in my stomach twisted into a knot of utter terror. They had to be in the lounge as I had only just left to go to bed. Or so I thought. The only other possibility was that they, too, had gone to bed. I turned on my heel and shot up the stairs to their room. The light was still on as I ran through the door. Their bed was empty.
I started to feel faint as a terrifying realisation sunk in. I was alone in the house. As a final resort, I ran down the short corridor towards my parents’ en suite bathroom and flung the door open. My mother was in the bath and my father stood brushing his teeth. They both looked at me in utter shock. Apparently, I was white as a sheet.
I explained what had just happened to the disbelieving pair. To be fair, if I had hadn’t been there I’m not sure I would have believed it. They calmed me down and proceeded to check my room for any signs of paranormal activity. Unsurprisingly, none was found. There was absolutely no way that I was sleeping in my room after that. The slight dent in the carpet next to their bed stood testament to the fact that this was not the first time that I had chosen to sleep on the floor.
The next morning I couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened the night before. I was so happy that the sun was up but was worried that the same thing might happen again. While my mother sat at her dresser doing her hair, the news came on the radio as I sat on the end of her bed.
“We are receiving unverified early reports of the ground shaking possibly caused by seismic activity in or near Durban, KwaZulu-Natal, South Africa on 2 Mar 1986 at approximately 21:23 local time. There are no details yet on the magnitude or depth of this possible quake.”
