I remember it clearly. It was a bright Thursday afternoon when Martin's brother finally agreed to let me borrow his boa constrictor. It was excellent timing I felt. Now I could let the boa constrictor kill Jake, get rid of the body (hopefully, the boa constrictor will simply eat him) and then settle down to watch some Supernatural (I'm currently shipping Destiel. If you aren't, don't talk to me).
The snake was this humongous chain of muscle and spine and scales that hissed at regular intervals. I opened the basement door and chucked it in. A dull thump echoed up the stairs as it landed on the floor followed by an angry hiss. I figured the angrier it was, the more likely it was to kill Jake.
I ran to the kitchen and placed an upturned glass on the floor. I stretched out next to it and placed my ear against it. I was so intent on trying to listen to what was going on downstairs that I didn't hear her come in.
"Watcha doin'?" She asked in true Isabella style. Have I ever told you how much I ship Phineas and Isabella? They're possibly the cutest couple on television next to Sherlock and John.
Anyway, she nearly scared me right out of my skin. "Are you spyyyiiiinnggg on Jaaakke?"
I didn't bother to answer her. Twelve year olds generally don't know what they're talking about.
"Ally and Jake sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I..." She shut up as a blood curling yowl emanated from the basement. Maybe I should have waited for Supernatural to have started before throwing that snake in. The soundtrack would have masked the screams nicely.
My sister pricked up her ears and dashed for the basement. Only I was smarter. "Stop!" I said. "What if we are trapped in the first five minutes of Supernatural?"
The fear in her eyes was very real. I knew my instincts were right when I introduced her to Supernatural when she was nine. "You go first," she said.
I cautiously stepped into the basement and took a few hesitant steps down the steps. My sister started to play 'Carry on My Wayward Son' before flipping over to Beethoven's Fifth Symphony. Thank you, sis. Thank you for freaking me out more than what was necessary.
I heard an ominous creak behind me. I turned like Catwoman only to see the door swing ominously shut behind me. There I was, stuck in a dark stairwell, with a dull ominous glow of light coming up from the basement. Ominous shadows danced ominously on the walls. (See what I did there? It's call repetition and it is used to produce an atmosphere. In this case, it is to heighten the ominous feeling I was feeling while trying to enter a basement with a horse sized dog and a very large snake).
My heart sped up as my sister chuckled evilly behind the closed door. If Andrew Scott ever quits as James Moriarty on Sherlock, my sister should try out for the roll. She's got the high functioning sociopath thing down.
To calm myself, I decided to sing my favourite song softly to myself.
If there’s a full moon
An old house with rotten stairs
Just look around you
Chances are we’ll be there
Some day I’ll eat that darn canary
And then I’ll be happy, yes, sirree
But Hector thinks you should be wary
Sylvester and Tweety Mysteries
Yes, I sing the theme song of Sylvester and Tweety Mysteries when I'm upset, okay? Your childhood was sadly lacking if you've never watched the Loony Tunes.
I took a deep breath and stepped into the lit basement. And nearly fainted from shock.
YOU ARE READING
The Apocalypse (A Parody)
Paranormal"There are two things you do not do to a teenaged, slightly book crazed (okay, maybe not slightly), Romantic (with a capital R) girl. These are not in any guide book on any bookshelf in any part of the world." I have a lot to deal with right now...
