Monsters under the bed.

Movin n' Shakin' 

During my childhood we lived in Canyon Country. This is better known as the place where Magic Mountain exists. My mom's best friend had a daughter named Bianca. She was my little sister's (the middle child's) age; about a year and a half younger than me. I was in the fourth grade, and those two in third. We were all buddies. She stayed the night at our house all the time. This was a regular thing. We were allowed to watch Nickelodeon's "Nick at Night," which included shows such as: Hey Dude, Are you Afraid if the Dark, Ren & Stimpy,  Rocco's Modern Life, Hey Dude, ect.

 On this ordinary weekend night, Bianca and my sister set up their sleeping bags in front of our massive, solid oak entertainment center that was packed full of: way too many VHSs, every piece electronic equipment that existed in the 80's and early 90's, my mom's collection of carousel horses, (who collects those?) some in sow globes, some not, ect. 

This night turned out to be a little different. For some reason after/while watching "Are you Afraid of the Dark," like we had 30 times before, Bianca got scared. She got so scared in fact, that she was adamant about calling her mom to come pick her up and bring her home. At that point in time, I was thinking "What a baby!" Sis didn't want to sleep in the living room by herself, and returned to the bunkbeds she shared with my youngest sister. 

At 4:31 that morning I awoke to my bed moving around. My instincts kicked in quickly. I knew immediately that there was a monster under my bed that was trying to make his way out. By the way my bed was jumping about, I knew this monster was huge. His back was getting caught, and he was having a hell of a time trying to free himself in order to "come get me." It was then that I heard my mom's screaming our names. 

She yelled to all of us and came in our bedrooms to scoop us up like little baby chicks under her wings. "We are having an earthquake, get into the doorframes!" she yelled in a panicked voice. And boy was she right. Everything was shaking and bouncing. I was relieved it wasn't a monster, it was just an earthquake. It was then, that pieces of our roof started to collapse; followed by the shattering of windows. Pieces of are walls were starting to come down, and suddenly the house didn't feel like a very safe place any longer. 

  

Some executive decision was reached, and we were herded outside. Most of our neighbors were also making their way outside at this point. There was screaming in general, and people screaming the names of their loved ones still trapped inside. Our five person family was all huddled together as we experienced aftershock upon aftershock; serious ones. More broken glass, more roof caving in, more walls crumbling. 

Some while later, army trucks actually rolled through our residential neighborhood, throwing out tents, sleeping bags, flashlights, and water. This was a very surreal, post-apocalyptic type scene. After hours of aftershocks tapering off, things were starting to calm down. It was morning now, bright and sunny. People were setting up their tents and surveying some of the damage. My mom had this seemingly crazy idea to drive around and see if any food places had power. I came along for the sake of seeing our town engulfed in flames, abandoned cars in the street, and corpses littering the roads. It wasn't nearly as dramatic a scene as my mind had built it up to be. This doughnut shop next to Little Caesar's did have power, and was open! She bought a shit ton of doughnuts and handed them out to the neighbors when we got home.

Now comes the creepy part. When it was finally safe to go back inside of our home to fetch essentials like clothing and whathaveyou, we entered through the front; which led us into the living room first. That solid oak entertainment center with way too many heavy electronics stored in it, was laying over the two little, red sleeping bags. The only material peeking out from underneath of the entertainment center, were the very top several inches of the sleeping bags; and the pillows. On what would've been  Bianca's pillow, standing absolutely upright, was my mom's prized possession. It was  her biggest, most detailed porcelain carousel horse mounted on a heavy wooden stand.

I believe the heavy entertainment system falling on their tiny body's alone, would likely have killed them. But that porcelain carousel horse was the cherry on top. The sight, the thought... made us shiver.

And that, my friends, is my 1994 Northridge earthquake experience. That, and I remember having a lot of fun camping out in a tent pitched on our front lawn for weeks. 

DISCLAIMER: I haven't proof read for typos yet. Onto another post.