“You’re scaring the dog,” Trish pointed out. She rarely called me by name. They do that inprisoner of war camps, I’ve heard. Depersonalization.”

“I couldn’t even masturbate without fearing I’d cry out his name and scare the damn dog.”

“Do you think I’m pretty?” I heard myself ask. Something I couldn’t name flashed across his face. “No. I don’t think you’re pretty. I think you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

“Holy fucking dogs! You scared the uterus out of me!”

“Terrible thought she was brave. She remembered it now, heard his voice in her head as if he stood next to her. "They scared. Not you, though." Terrible thought she was brave, and if he - a man whose name was Terrible, a man whose path people scrambled to get out of - thought so, it must be true. She could do this, she would do this.”

“I was never really certain why he scared the bejesus out of me. Nothing scared me growing up. I’ve been playing with dead people since the day I was born, so it’s good thing, yet the Big Bad scared me. Which brings me to the reason I called.” “Which was to give me nightmares for the rest of my life?” “Oh, no, that’s just a plus. Why was I so scared of him?” “Hon, for one thing he was this powerful, massive, black smokelike being.”“So, you’re saying I’m a racist?”