Do Vampires Exist?

I started babysitting when I was 12 years old.  I was a mature kid and this was 1982.  It was OK to leave your children with a child back then.  I babysat for one family regularly, the Jeans.  They had one of the old, historic stone houses in uptown Kingston, New York.  In all the time I babysat for their daughter, I never saw all the rooms in that house.   It was great to babysit for the Jeans because they had Channel Z.  This was the box that sat atop their television and granted access to a lot of movies, the later the time got, the harder the ratings of the movies played.  It was October, and Channel Z was focusing on scary movies.  After I put my charge to bed, I stumbled upon a Stephen King marathon. 

The first up was Cujo.  I watched from beginning to end, mesmerized by the odd characters and large, froth-mouthed St. Bernard.  Next was Christine.  It didn’t seem too plausible that a car could do so much damage, but I was captivated.  By this time I was in the zone.  The Jean’s daughter was sound asleep, I had eaten my share of snacks from the fridge, and I was on the TV chair, ready for the next film, Salem’s Lot. 

From the age of seven, I was scared of vampires.  I made my mother buy me a silver cross that I did not remove from the chain around my neck for three years.  I figured Salem’s Lot would not be worse than a deranged automobile or a sick dog.  I was wrong.

Thirty minutes into Salem’s Lot I realized I was facing a vampire film.  How bad could it be?  Hutch was one of the main characters and I figured nothing bad would happen to the blond guy from Starsky & Hutch.

The pipes in the Jean’s house started to rattle and hiss as the steam coursed through the old heating system.  I was frozen.  I was too terrified to move for fear of running into a life-less blood-sucker emerging from the basement.  I couldn’t look to my left, where the window was placed for fear of seeing the floating, pale face of a vampire begging to enter the house.  To turn the channel I had to get up and I couldn’t.  I watched the entire movie and anxiously awaited the Jean’s return.

At long last, they arrived home and in turn delivered me home.  It was 1:30am and I immediately went upstairs.  Not only to let my mom know I was home but to ask her a burning question.

“Mom, mom, wake up.  I’m home.  I need to ask you a question.  Mom, are vampires real?  Do they really exist?  They are just made up right? ” 

I was desperate for reassurance that vampires were fictional creatures and I did not need to pull out my old cross and wear it for the duration of my life.  

My mother, now awake replied, “Do vampires exist?  Well, not that I am aware of.  Good night.”

Top that Mom.