scared

When I hear a bump in the attic I am not afraid. I just think of all the lonely people in the world who would be happy to hear a bump in their attic because it would mean that they are not alone. That way when the ghostly moaning and blood chilling screams start, I am too busy crying for the lonely people, and my sobs drown out the noises.

As my body is wretched with a empathetic sense of despair for these desolate souls living all alone, I avoid the sense of impending doom that would normally arise when you hear the sounds of people moving about in your empty house. The footsteps creeping down the stairs. The screech of the door hinges as icy fingers push my bedroom door open just enough for someone to peek inside and look at me. The unyielding premonition that someone is starring at me and the unnatural chill that has come about the air.

Instead of being scared, I just lay ghostly still pretending not to notice .... as I think of the lonely kids and pee quietly into my sheets.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!