The Boogie Man Has A Name (Repost)

April 27, 2013 — 13 Comments

Denver Bungalow. Looks harmless… until nightfall. That’s when they come out.

Mom and I lived in an old bungalow on York Street, just a few blocks from Washington Park. It was a single-story house with a large front porch, much like the one in the picture. The window above the porch provided the rising sun passage into an otherwise dark, creepy attic.

The house was eerie, like something out of a horror flick. Looking up from the street you could sometimes see a shadowy figure peering out from the attic window.

We were not alone.

Can you hear the whisper? “Get Ooouut!”

Each creaking step was a torturous reminder that a restless and gloomy night awaited. This was no stairway to heaven. Who in their right mind would ever think that a bedroom belonged in an attic?

Producers of horror movies, that’s who!

I had a wonderful mother. But mom did some cockamamie things, like sending her 4 year-old son to the center of hell when she had a party…

Alone. Darkness only abated by the shadowy taunting of dancing trees. A sliver of light pierces up the stairs from the cracked door below. My breathing is heavy. Shhh. Muscles tense. I hear…

I was not alone.

We said a prayer every night at bedtime. You know the one…

Now I lay me down to sleep.
I pray the Lord my soul to keep.
If I die before I wake,
I pray the Lord my soul to take.

Every child knows monsters are lurking. That the boogie man is watching. Waiting. The proof is in this prayer. One of these nights, they WILL get you!

I scream, “Mommy!” Light chases darkness. She’s there. With me. Assuring. Reassuring. No one, no thing is in the room. “See,” she says, as she calmly reveals that everything is clear. Under the bed. Nothing. The closet. Check.

She kisses me goodnight. Light leaves with her… Shadows swaying. Darkness. Alone.

I don’t know where he hid. But as I whisper, “Now I lay me…,” I know he’ll be coming. I know the boogie man is real.

The Boogie Man Is Real
As adults, we think the boogie man is just the hyped up imagination of children.

It’s not. 

Something creeps in my bedroom, patiently waiting for eye-twitching dream-state. It pounces. Drags me into a pit, a dungeon with a thousand shrieks. I’m chained. Tortured. Beaten into submission. Keys of freedom are dangled… just out of reach.

His wicked laugh mocks my condition. The lashing persists. There’s no escape. The shrill of his voice seizes me. I’m helpless. Lifeless. Impotent.

Daylight comes. Fresh wounds on old scars. I tumble out of bed… fumble with the coffee pot… and wonder: What good is another day? 

Boogie Men Have Names
Boogie men are everywhere. All with different names. “Worthless” is a vicious monster camped under my bed. His purpose is to Paralyze.

A paralyzed soul will wilt in self-pity and self-loathing. It will drown in a pool of unbelief. 

“Now I lay me down to sleep…”

What’s the name of the boogie man under your bed? 


13 responses to The Boogie Man Has A Name (Repost)


    It’s funny I was just thinking about it on my way to work today. I think my boogie man is a chameleon, it changes with circumstances; sometimes it’s self-doubt, sometimes it’s pride. It gets me when I least expect it, and where I’m not even looking. C.S. Lewis’ “Screwtape Letters” keep coming back to me whenever I think about this.


      Sometimes I like being angry. Not the yelling and shouting type of angry, but being just angry enough that my adrenaline starts flowing. Adrenaline is an amazing drug that wipes out self-doubt. I feel good. I feel powerful again. I feel like I can rule the world. You better move over or get run over! There it is. The pride monster. The jerk in me that must be stopped. I repent. I’m humbled. Self-Doubt slips back under my bed…


    The little girl got it right “Offense is the best defense”.


      Yeah, there’s a big difference between survival and victory. I just got hooked on this show called The Walking Dead. It’s an apocalyptic type of story. The show is good, but what’s beginning to drive me crazy is the group of people who have a survival mentality. They’re playing defense instead of offense, and they keep getting killed.

      I get tired of being on oxygen and having an IV in my vein helping me survive the boogieman. I get tired of the survival mentality.


    That little girl is not afraid of anything? She’ll go along way! I love your writing Shon! It always makes me smile and think too!


    Sometimes I feel like a little girl screaming for someone to save me and then I remember that I can be tough…then I want to kick some ass, but I’m still trembling on the inside. I love this post. I think changing it to the Boogie Man was actually quite beneficial for the post 😉 Really great!!


      Kick some butt while trembling on the inside. Sounds like a good definition of FAITH. 🙂 Faith is about trusting, and risking, and not being paralyzed by fear. So you kick butt even when everything in you wants to run and hide.

      Nice. Thanks for giving me a new definition of faith!


    Your writing keeps getting better every time, Shon! Also, my Boogie Man’s name is Bob.


      Ha ha ha! Bob! That doesn’t sound too scary! Thanks for the encouragement – it definitely helps me keep moving forward! Now, if I could only get the confidence the little girl has in the video!


    “A paralyzed soul will wilt in self-pity and self-loathing.” Too true! Fear is my boogie man and keeps me paralyzed more than I admit. But I got up and took a few steps this week…

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s