31 Frights of October

Flight of the Unwanted

The moon hung low in the night sky, casting its glow directly over Frankie's house. The sky was crystal clear, yet Frankie's mind was a whirlwind of thoughts.

I hate that stupid bat.

I really really hate that stupid bat.

The shrill screech of the bat echoed through the walls again. Her brother had adopted a baby bat, and since he was a heavy sleeper, it didn't seem to bother him at all. Their parents lived on the other side of the house, so they were blissfully unaware as well. But Frankie had sharp senses—she could hear like a bat, and having one in the house was unbearable.

She pulled her pillow over her head, trying to muffle the sound. The bat screeched, begging for food after already eaten its share, but Jack just wouldn't wake up. He had always been the nerdy one, while Frankie felt like she was the unlucky one. Funny how that worked out: typically, one twin was smart and the other was pretty, but he had ended up with both roles. Jack seemed to get everything he wanted.

From childhood, Jack had fit the mold of the quintessential nerd. He aced his classes, had impeccable manners—even during the terrible twos—and he harbored a strange fascination with animals, especially bats. His room was adorned with bat-themed posters and quotes, and he even dyed his curly blonde hair a dark brown to mimic them. The color suited him well, highlighting his features, while Frankie often felt overshadowed by his charm and good looks. She struggled with her own uneven features, while Jack seemed to score perfectly in both academics and appearance.

She groaned into her mattress, the silk warming with her breath. She wished she could shut that bat up so she could finally get rest, Jack had only adopted that bat a week ago now, but it felt like months. Frankie hadn't been able to sleep more than a few hours each night due to the bats pestering screams.

She flopped over in her bed, the duvet hugging her body in all the wrong spots, leaving room for cold air to seep in the same way water seeped through the roof only above her bedroom. A growing anger began to bubble inside her stomach, she tossed the blanket again. It failed to correct the issue. She rubbed her bloodshot eyes, if she took another sleepless night she would be sure to lose any chance at beauty she had left.

She slowly crept out of her bed, her feet softly hitting the wooden floorboards, only for them to creak once she put her full weight on them. As her short nightgown draped from its thin spaghetti-like straps, it clung to her fuller figure as she rubbed her arms, attempting to capture any warmth left in her body.

Her bedroom not only had a water leak, but a heating problem, making it feel as if she had just set foot in the freezer. She winced, clutching her body tightly.

She made her way into the hallway, tiptoeing down as the floorboards creaked ever so slightly. She stood face to face with her brother's door, hands shaking as she reached for the handle. The cold metal burned her palm as she twisted it quietly.

She loomed over his bedroom, the hallway light casting her silhouette on the floor. Her gaze hardened, brows furrowing as she locked eyes with the bat; her brother continued to sleep, snoring heavily.

With each step toward the bat, it squawked louder, sensing her unkind presence. She stood in the dark corner of his room, a pile of neatly folded t-shirts resting beside the cage—of course his room was neat as ever. Everything he did was perfect, not one thing out of place. A gnawing anger formed in her chest.

Her hands, now steady as confidence flurried within her, she had made up her mind– she was going to do this. She wrapped her fingers around the t-shirt on top of the pile, unfolding it into a rectangular sheet. She returned her gaze to the bat, its wings fluttering helplessly. With a quick motion, she opened the cage door and ambushed it with the shirt, twisting it inside.