The Illusionist

Have you ever sat in a movie theater with a bunch of friends watching one of those so called "scary movies?" The one that is so ridiculous that it can't be taken seriously. Rather than be categorized as a horror film it should really be in the comedy section. Dawn of the Dead is one of those films. It became a "cult classic" due to its attempt at being scary but only accomplishing laughter. Of course when you are sitting in a big theater surrounded by people laughing with you it is truly funny.

Everything changes when you are in your downstairs basement all alone at midnight watching the same movie that months earlier made you cry from so much laughing. This time it is different. The possibilities of the ridiculous things being portrayed in the movie seem logical when you are alone. Mutated mountain men in the West Virginia hills are actually on their way to your basement to slay you with an axe. Even worse, the boogie man really does exist and he is waiting for the opportune time to attack. Butterflies begin to swarm around in your stomach, multiplying with every second that passes. You start looking around to see if something is going to jump out at you. Wait a minute; was that a shadow on the wall? Holy mother of God, there is a strange sound coming from behind you. Finally it is too much! You jump up, turn the lights on, shut the TV off, run to your room, and jump under your covers. The same mind frame of when you were five comes rushing back. Of course if you get under your covers that demon that lives under your bed can't possibly retrieve you.

The mind is an amazing thing. Its capabilities are far reaching, delving into realms that have yet to be discovered. The roles it takes on vary in shape and size. It can be a best friend creating logical justification helping you sleep better at night, a teacher that is constantly helping to process information in a relative format to your frame of thoughts, an enemy that betrays everything you once knew; you mean Pluto isn't a planet, and an illusionist that bring to life the phrase "the mind plays tricks on the eyes."

There we were the dynamic duo Bri and Jessica crossing the bridge for our routine game of tennis. We were determined to one day become professional tennis players. It seemed to be a likely scenario being that we played every day. It didn't matter that we had only begun playing several weeks prior to this night. We were destined to go down in history as undefeated Wimbledon champions. The Williams sisters were no skin off our backs. They would never encounter as fierce competitors as Bri and I. We were beginning our practice this particular evening a little later than usual. As we walked by the abandoned dorms near the highly anticipated tennis courts, Bri noticed a light on in one of the third floor dorms. It was a curious situation being that the dorms were scheduled to be torn down.

It was also an ironic situation being that earlier that day the tales of Ted Bundy having been a RA in these dorms years earlier had been swarming around. Bri and I glanced at each other with a bit of nervousness residing in our eyes, but quickly began to laugh as our minds logical side took a grip. We continued walking past the dorms, checking the doors to see if maybe a homeless man had invaded the abandoned building. None of the doors were open; the situation quickly became more intriguing. We had a tennis game to catch however, so our investigation had to come to an end. We quickly changed the subject of conversation and continued along toward our destination residing only moments away. After all, the lights only stayed lit for another three hours; it was imperative that we rush to be able to fit in a grueling tennis practice. Being number one at Wimbledon would be no easy task and take a lot of dedication. We were not so naive that we didn't realize this.

After an exhilarating game of tennis, Bri and I began our journey home. It was only about a 15 minute walk, one in which we had done frequently. This time however, it was dark and a bit intimidating. As we walked past the abandoned dorms both Bri and I were a bit nervous noticing that another light was on. How could this be? We had checked all the doors previously and none of them were open. We both were thinking the same thing, but didn't want to say it due to the reaction it would likely bring. We strolled past the dorms as if neither of us were secretly glancing over our shoulders to find the perpetrator that was likely hiding in the bushes waiting for Bri and me to walk past again. We continued our conversation about the song "complicated" by Avril Lavine when suddenly I felt someone grab my hand urging me to follow.

Bri had grabbed my hand in an effort to pull me along as she began to run. My heart stopped! I had never heard a more shrilling scream come from anyone, let alone Bri. This was a serious situation. I had heard of the rush of adrenaline that comes over a person in an emergency situation before, but had never experienced it until this moment. I ran as if I was an Olympic athlete. I had never been so motivated in my life. I was sure this was the end of my life. Thoughts of Ted Bundy mutilating my body and burying it in a discrete location in the hills filled my head. Would anyone notice that Bri and I had gone missing? Would I get caught and Bri get away? All of this occurred in a mere two seconds, but it seemed like it had easily been much longer when Bri dropped to the ground in laughter.

I was so confused. As I turned to look over my shoulder there was no one there, except a parking meter! I instantly knew that Bri and I had been the victims of a parking meter, not the contrived man hiding in the bushes. I also dropped to the ground in laughter. After the mirth had subsided Bri and I lied on the hard pavement catching our breaths from what we had full heartedly believed to be the end of our Wimbledon dreams and even worse our lives! Just imagining the horrible things that a Ted Bundy copycat would likely do to Bri and I was enough to offer someone a heart attack. A sense of relief permeated me until Pumpkin (a well known dorm mate of ours) walked past and waved. Had he seen everything that went on? Had he heard our shrilling screams of fear and death?

After lying on the pavement under the street lamp composing ourselves, we decided to venture the remainder of the route home never to mention our experience to anyone. Pumpkin also known as Justin, never said anything to us about that night. We will never know if he witnessed the trick of the illusionist. To this day, when I see a parking meter, which happens frequently, I grin at our painstakingly comical event.