I probably should have never read The Secret Garden. It definitely did not help to mitigate my childhood worries. In the beginning of the book, the main character, Mary Lennox, an English child living in colonial India wakes up to discover her family and servants gone, seemingly disappeared. It quickly becomes apparent that her family and the majority of the servants are dead from a cholera outbreak and the few servants left fled in panic, assuming the little girl had died as well The consequence was that she woke up in a completely abandoned house with only a garden snake for company. Since reading the book I have harbored a fear that somehow my whole entire family will die overnight and I will be the only one left in the morning. Fortunately for Mary she at least had the ability to get up and look around. I live in dread of being put in a similar situation because how long would it be before someone came to look for me? I can’t walk. Maybe I worry too much I do have help that comes is every day during the workweek. But if it happened on a weekend I’m still a up a creek for an indeterminate length of time.
I realize that I’m probably just being paranoid but I really don’t want to wake up one day to discover that my only living breathing companion is the dog who fell asleep on my bed the night before, on the last day of what passed from my normal life. Perhaps, if the unthinkable and admittedly unlikely does happen the only scrap of comfort I will be able to hang on to is that they didn’t die of cholera.