The alarming scream abruptly woke me from my slumber.
"What the heck was that?" I thought to myself, trying not to let the panic rise in my anxious body.
There it went again, the piercing, high-pitched wailing noise. It sounded as if a lost, helpless soul was in grave danger outside my bedroom window. I cautiously moved out of my bed and to the window, and peered through my curtains into the outside world. A flash of orange raced away from the house and into the darkness.
I sighed in relief. A fox. Why do they have to make such an awful noise, especially when I'm in this house all by myself. Up until last night I'd surprised myself with how brave I'd been, home alone.
My parents went away for the weekend for a much needed break, leaving me to guard the house. I was almost tempted to invite a couple of friends over on Friday night, but my mind cast back to the broken chair, the burnt kitchen table and the broken Christmas decorations. I decided it would be far more relaxing, and respectful, to enjoy the tranquillity of an empty house and spare my parents the effects of alcohol clumsiness.
Saturday night I ventured out and remembered my door key, thanks to my mums helpful note on the front door, saying 'KEY!' My friend Helen drove to my friend Annies house for birthday celebrations. Thanks for the lift Helen! Happy Birthday Annie!
We celebrated my friends birthday at the same venue as the year before, except this year the venue has had a complete face lift. This year it's all bright colours, velvety textures and a huge cocktail bar. Champagne was generously ordered by the birthday girl and the bubbles, atmosphere and quality time with friends was the recipe for a great night out.
I arrived home in the small hours, and I even managed to walk slowly up the stairs to my bed. I refused to think of the childhood monster chasing me up the stairs, until I was safely hiding under my duvet. He wasn't allowed in my bedroom, although that didn't stop him trying to sneak into my dreams and trick me into waking up and staring at him. But Saturday night I was far too tired and full of champagne to let the monster bother me.
I awoke on Sunday morning to the sun streaming through my curtains. Oh goody, the perfect weather to sit in the garden reading and eating. Although I had to chase the sun around, as my parents garden is crammed full of trees and bushes. I lost myself in 'stranger on the train' which the poltergeist kindly returned to the bathroom (behind the washing basket, would you believe it) and I helped myself to the cheese supply in the fridge. Cheese and pickle on crackers, cheese on toast with lashings of pepper and tomato ketchup, and cheese and tomato sandwiches. It was a very cheesy day.
As the sun set in the sky, signalling the end of another day, and the gnats started circulating the air above my head, I vacated to the kitchen. My big box was brought down from my bedroom and I made a couple of cards for more birthdays fast approaching, happily humming away to myself and thinking there was nothing to this living alone lark. There were no monsters or burglars, just a quiet, empty house.
After my soak in the bubble bath, and pink pyjamas and pink piggy slippers on, I had to go and ruin everything, didn't I.
The house began to mysteriously creak, and there suddenly seemed far too many windows for scary faces to peer in. I walked exceedingly fast up the stairs and practically slammed my bedroom door shut. The silence was deafening. Apart from the creaks.
"I'll put the telly on for background noise, until I fall asleep," I thought to myself. First channel I tuned into looked suspiciously like a horror film. Not the best choice of viewing, for it was those films which contributed to making me like this in the first place. I hastily turned over to something light hearted, and tried to think of nice things, such as butterflies and sunflowers.
Eventually my eyes felt heavy, the off button on the remote control button was pushed, and I drifted off into sleep.
Unfortunately it wasn't a very long sleep. I awoke countless times throughout the night, convinced there were burglars down stairs, convinced the childhood monster had sneaked from my dream into my bedroom, and convinced there was a murder scene outside my bedroom window.
My parents are back tonight. Thank goodness for that. I'm optimistic that tonight I'll be able to sleep soundly.
Bye, bye childhood monster!
Pictures of the day.
Saturday night. Out with friends.
What am I pointing at? Surely the monster hasn't followed me out?!