rn
He’s tapping on the door, trying to scare me, but I’ve been scared for 8 years now. He cant scare me anymore then that. I grab a big box that’s down here and climb in as quietly as I can. Maybe he wont find me this time. Doubt it, but I still get in and close the lid just in time as he slowly creeks the door open.
rn
I ready my brick for this days battle. He’s holding a flashlight. I can tell through the crack in the box from where the lids meet. I feel like a jack in the box ready to spring up and scare the crap out of him with my handy dandy brick. But I wont spring up, I’ll stay hidden as long as I can, with my brick to defend myself, like a trapped rat holding up his little claws and baring his flesh tearing teeth as a giant cat corners him, wanting to kill him like his owner wishes him to. I can picture it, a terrified little rat using anything he has to defend himself as a giant cat, a orange tiger maybe, comes in for the kill, while the little rat pleads not to be killed tonight, just one my night to live, one more night to be safe from the giant cat.
rn
I feel eager for him to find me, so I can smash his face in with my brick, yet I want to stay down here in my box and hide. I want him to just leave so I can be with my typewriter again.
rn
He scans his little flashlight around my not so hidden room a few more times, missing my cardboard box completely. I keep praying he’ll just back up, back out my door and leave me alone, just this once. Just one time. If there’s a God out there he’d send them away from my little room.
rn
I can hear him take one heavy step and then I hear a tiny squeak and then a girlish scream and then a whole bunch of heavy steps and a slamming of my door and more running and then Jim yelling *she’s not down here, just some ugly rats.*
rn
Creative
Created on 8-21-08
Views(35)
Story Rating PG
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