Home Alone

Ya know...I've never really liked being home alone. I'm sure it goes back when we lived on Warsaw Road and we used to get crank calls all the time. Mom used to say that they were my dad but I don't think that they were. The weird thing was that they only seemed to happen when I was alone, and every time I was alone. Even if whoever else was home had just walked out the door or even had just gone out to the yard. The phone would ring and there'd be no one there. I know it sounds like a cheesy horror movie but this started when I was about 13. It went on for YEARS. I remember one night, I was 15 at the time and Mom & Fred were out for the evening. The calls kept coming... Over and over, every 1/2 hr or so. Just after I'd relax and think "ok - I can read/go to bed" the phone would ring. I couldn't just unplug the damn thing, in case someone actually called (in retrospect - that's stupid)... But I finally was in the kitchen with a knife in my hand when my parents got home... I'd never been so scared in my life.
I'm older than that now...but I STILL hate being home alone. I get scared to start anything just in case... I mean COME ON... I'm home alone (with baby) at least twice weekly these days yet I STILL hate it. I can't work on the things I should work on and don't want to get invested in anything. Just in case....