At sixteen, biking was the predominant game for most teenagers in my neighborhood. It was an interesting experience to explore both the city and its outskirts. On most occasions, we gathered at a central place on Saturdays before jumped on our bikes oblivious of our first stop or final destination. Our team of about six to eight boys and girls was enthusiastic and ambitious. We went deeper into one of the forests in the neighborhood each time we went biking. The scary stories told about the forest did not deter as from meeting our goals. Our number gave us courage and we could chant slogans as we traversed the thick forest.

On one fateful day during one of our many trips to the treaded forest, my bike broke down irreparably. It was not until all my six other colleagues went ahead of me with the claim of going for help when it dawned on me that I was alone in the thick forest and that the scary tales told about the forest could actually be true. I was scared to the bone! I began trekking hurriedly back home with my damaged bike on my shoulder. I kept glazing left and right with the anticipation that I could spot one of the monsters told in the tales as it came to paw and devour me.

Despite having come to the forest a couple of times before, for the first time I heard strange noises from owls and foxes. This must have been as a result of my pre-conceived notion people are always attacked by wild animals when they walk inside the forest alone. My perceptions and sensations were altered once I remained alone in the forest. The signal detection theory, which states that the threshold required in detecting stimuli decreases with the decrease in background stimulation, was the cause of my sensations (Lilenfeld, Lynn, Namy, & Woolf, 2014). Despite having reached home safely, I swore never to return to the forest because the tales were more vivid in my head ever since the incident.