A scary story made me fear my neighbor

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Did a scary story ever make you fear someone so much you couldn't ever speak to them again? When I was a little girl, I lived in morbid fear of my neighbor. Growing up, I spent a lot of time on the island of Trinidad just off the coast of Venezuela. It's an amazing multi-racial, multi-cultural place rich with customs and traditions. It was during my childhood there that I was introduced to the art of storytelling. My dad was a master storyteller. He would weave a story with such flair and finesse that it would bring you to the edge of your seat, cause your hair to stand edge, and your heart to beat so hard it would sound like drums. You would be shaking and shivering and looking over your shoulders as he spoke but when he was finished, you'd still be begging for more. One evening, when I was just about eight years old, my dad told us story of the soucouyant (pronounced soo-koo-yah). In the Caribbean, the soucouyant is supposed to be a vampire of sorts. She is an elderly lady who is supposed to shed her skin in the still of the night, changing into a ball of fire before taking to the skies in search of hapless cows and innocent humans to feed on. The legend goes on to say that catching the soucouyant meant lying in wait until she had changed form and taken to the skies, creeping in to her home to find the shed skin and covering it with salt. When the soucouyant returned at dawn and attempted to change into her skin again, it is supposed to shrink and burn and cause her to leap and scream in pain, shouting "Skin, Skin, you na know me!" In simpler times, many villages were said to have soucouyants and every illness or death was blamed on them. Well, we had a little old lady as our neighbor. She was really very sweet, and as she had no children, she was also very lonely. Until that night I used to love to accept the snacks and sweet meats she gave me. But that night as my dad told us about soucouyants, there had been a power outage on our street, and so we were sitting outside in the dark because the night was cool and we were facing our neighbor's house. He let out this insane cackle and I looked up at the sky and, I kid you not, I saw a shooting star. Blazing through the sky. My heart was thumping. It was like I was just sitting there, my dad's voice in my ear, and his story was coming to life. I SWEAR to you, to my eight year old eyes, that star fell directly in my neighbor's yard that night. I screamed and I screamed and for the first time nothing my dad or my mom would say to me about it being just a story could console me. I was a mess! It was terrible of me, of course, but I was thinking, "There's a vampire next door! That's why she's always giving me those sweets and cakes and breads, she's trying to fatten me! She's a soucouyant!" After that, I had so much difficulty sleeping. I always wanted a lamp in my room, a bible open on my bed, a cross in my hand. I was leaving no stone unturned in my quest to ward off evil. And from that day until we came to the US, I lived in fear of that poor old lady. The thing is, in my attempts to ward off evil, I was being really mean to that poor old lady. I always screamed and ran when she called me and I wouldn't care that my mother would scold me after. My dad would laugh and tease me but my mom, I think she was mortified. She would always be wringing her hands and making embarrassed excuses on my behalf. As an adult, I returned to Trinidad because I wanted to meet that old lady and to apologize for leaping and running whenever I saw her as a child. I don't think I might have gone so far as to confess my fears about her being a witch, but I would have come up with something! Unfortunately, I learned that she had passed away some time before... in her sleep, with her skin intact. I felt and still feel terrible. I pray that her soul rests in peace. Did you know any scary stories growing up? How did you react to them?