The next night as I sat up in bed reading NoSleep, I heard a creak. I turned to see the creature slithering towards me. I stared at it as it approached my bed, it stared back at me. It made its way onto the foot of my bed, never breaking eye contact. It stopped at my knees.
"What?" I said in a disgruntled tone. After all, the prime suspect in my hard drive theft was sitting right in front of me.
It bent it's body, almost as if it was trying to tilt it's nonexistent head. I spoke again.
"Well, are you gonna say anything? What are you? Do you have a fucking name?"
I no longer feared its presence, I was more worried about making it though the day. It bent it's body back to its original position and moved forward. It laid itself against my thigh, and closed its eye. I guess I fell asleep sitting up, because I woke up to a dead iPad and a small indent in the bed next to where I was.That's the day we got the news that my father had cancer. I cried. I smoked. I cried and smoked and smoked and cried. My father was my hero, the greatest person I'd known. With my mother, they were an unstoppable force.
I exhaled a large plume of smoke. As the cloud cleared, it appeared. Eye wide open, staring right at me.
Great, the last thing I want to see, this little fucking slug that continues to make my life more stressful. I told it to leave. I told it to die. I told it that I hated it. It continued to stare at me. I became angry, aggressive towards it. As I reached out to strike it, it wrapped its appendages around my fist. It pulled itself closer to my closed fist. Wrapped its body around my arm, and closed its eye.
I woke up to the sound of movement and commotion in the house. This wouldn't be unusual, but it was 2am and my parents both go to bed by 10pm. I grabbed the knife I kept by my bedside and made my way downstairs. I passed the bedroom of my snoring, fast asleep family, and started on the first step. I heard voices, I saw people, I saw guns. I dropped to my knees as two men gathered up our belongings. Waking my parents and invading all of our rooms, they took anything of value. They took my computer and my parents computer. The sole keepers of precious family photos, memories, music, records, and most importantly, pieces of my father.We spent a few weeks at a hotel as our house was being put back in order. When we returned, nothing felt the same. The house was in good shape, better than before. All the holes in the walls had been patched, the floors refinished, new locking windows installed, but still nothing that mattered was there.
