Every night around the same time, I hear the critters going through my garbage. It doesn't really bother me anymore. When it first started, around 2 months ago, it really creeped me out. My mind ran wild with all sorts of scenarios. I imagined humans going through my garbage. I also imagined aliens and monsters. As a middle-aged single woman, I was always on my toes. My friends said I had "spidey senses". I was just really aware of my surroundings. So when the critters started, I was at my back door each night trying to spot them. Despite it being 2 months, I still haven't pinpointed what they are. I just assume they are a family of raccoons or a few rats. After all, I live in northern Alberta. There is a lot of wildlife here. The critters never left a huge mess so I haven't tried to prevent them from going through my garbage. I felt a sort of pity for them. The critters were clearly hungry, as it was every night. I was just happy that they were keeping themselves fed, even if it meant going through my garbage.
It was mid-October. Soon enough the critters would go into hibernation and I wouldn't hear the familiar rummaging of the garbage. After having a few friends over to have a Thanksgiving day feast, I had to bring the garbage out. I hate bringing the garbage out at night. My house is in a secluded area and my backyard is a forest. Despite having multiple lights outside, I still get anxious every time. It was nearing the time the critters would go through my garbage and I was nervous I would encounter them. I wouldn't want to face a whole family of raccoons alone. I grabbed the two small bags of garbage and neared my back door. I slipped on my slippers and put my ear to the cool door, listening for any indication of the critters. I didn't hear anything. I opened my door and slipped my head out, quickly checking my surroundings before going outside. I closed the door behind me and tip-toed towards the back of my porch, where I kept my garbage cans. Typically, I would just throw the bags into the can and run back to my door but I walked over this time.
I peaked over into the garbage can, honestly expecting to see pairs of glowing eyes staring back up at me, but I saw nothing. Nothing asides from the black garbage bags I left there a few days prior. The bag was still closed, which surprised me. I thought the critters crawled in through the top and ripped the bags open but this bag was just the way I left it. I placed the two bags in my hands down at my feet and grabbed the bag on top of the can, examining the second bag, which was also in perfect condition. I placed both bags down back inside the can and spun the can around, looking at the bottom. Maybe the critters made a hole at the bottom? But there was no whole. I looked at the bags one last time before noticing what was different. I looked down at the bags at my feet, and back up at the bags in the can. The knots were different. Much different. I never triple knotted mine.
I stood there for a couple of seconds, frozen in place. Suddenly, a snap of a twig in the distance broke my train of thought and I glanced up, a pair of eyes meeting mine. Not the glowing type of eyes a raccoon or rat would have, but the dark, lively eyes of a human.
