You had gotten a bat in early October because you realized that you can own foreign bats legally. But taking care of this spooky fellow is quite the challenge. You named him Kyle Cloak because his wings remind you of a cloak. On the first day you got him he had scratched your cheek with his tiny claw. On the second day he ripped up your pillows. On the third day he ate your homework, but when you told your teacher, she didn't believe you. On the fourth day he hung from the ceiling right above your bed where your head was and he drooled on you. On the sixth day he stole your breakfast and threw it out the window. On the seventh and final day, you find him lying on the ground in your room when you came home from school. You chucked your backpack onto the floor and dropped to your knees beside him.
"Kyle Cloak..." you say sadly as you look at your pet bat dying. Suddenly he poofs into a vampire and says to you,
"That is such a stupid name, I'm not even upset I'm dying. Maybe in my next life I'll get an actually good name like, oh I don't know, Dracula? At least it would make sense." He spits at you disrespectfully and then he dies. You smack that rude vampire then you start to cry and say,
"How could that stupid, ungrateful, brat bat be so rude, after all I've done for him? How dare he! I hope he becomes a vampire again in his next life and is born out in the sun."
