We both broke into helpless laughter when the “monster” turned out to be half a dusty pistachio shell, stained at the tip and perfectly positioned to look sinister in the dark. All that dread, all that tension, over a forgotten snack that had simply rolled out of sight and gathered enough grime to become a private horror movie prop.

The moment stayed with me far longer than the fear itself. It became a quiet reminder of how quickly the mind fills in the unknown with danger, especially in dim corners and half-seen spaces. Our brains would rather assume threat than risk being wrong. Now, when something looks terrifying at first glance, I remember that pistachio shell. I still check under the bed, but I do it with a little more curiosity, and a lot less certainty that every shadow is out to get me.