It was summer vacation the year I turned 16, and that day mom and I were home alone. It was just after 5 p.m. The sky was overcast, and the night critters came out early in search of their meals.
Mom was in the master bedroom; she was trying on outfits to decide what to wear to the party she and dad had to attend later that night. I was in my bedroom across the hall, playing some game on my computer.
Anyway, we're both minding our own business, or at least I was. Then, out of nowhere, I get a whisper in my ears: "Come, hear this."
Naturally, that caught me off guard, as the way my desk was set up, my back was to the door. Very dangerous; don't do this, especially if you're going to be left home alone. You should be able to see all exits if you're going to be preoccupied.
So I follow her back to the master bedroom. We stop in the middle of the room, and she points to the bathroom. "There's something in there."
"What do you mean there's something in there? This is the second floor; anything in there had to come in through the door; you'd have seen it."
"I'm telling you something is in there. Go listen."
Sigh, mom always over-exaggerates stuff. She gets jumpy at her own shadow sometimes. Hell, everyone would be at home, and if she glimpsed a figure walking down the hall, she'd scream out like it's an intruder. She also lacks a sense of direction for sounds; she'll hear something on the same floor and assume it happened on another.
I walk up to the bathroom door and listen; I hear nothing. I scan the room and see nothing. She probably heard sounds from my game and thought it was something in the bathroom.
"There's nothing here." I said, mildly annoyed that my game was interrupted for nothing.
I go back to my room and start up the game again. Not two minutes later, she comes running in and says, "Kris, there's something in there!"
"Ma!"
"Y'all don't ever take me seriously."
No shit! You're like the boy who cried wolf.
"Fine." Yes, I felt guilty for overreacting, but false alarms tend to get annoying after a few years.
I walk back to the room with her; this time she's dead behind me, holding my shoulder as we approach the bathroom.
When I got to the door, whatever it was made itself known. Feet and claws scratched and thundered in the tub; its body slammed against the walls, the sounds reverberating through the bathroom. Mom didn't even wait; she sprinted the hell out of there.
WTF!
She dragged me into her room to help her, and when danger arrived, she ran away! I wasn't having any of that. I ran away too! Hot on her heels as she sprinted down to the living room.
Realising I'm with her, she starts interrogating me. "What are you doing here? Did you see it? Did you get it out?"
"What am I doing here?! Get what out?! My lady, you invited me to help you investigate, and when the trouble started, you ran away. Why am I staying?"
"So you didn't see it?"
"No!"
"Well, we're going to have to wait for your father to come back."
And that's exactly what we did. Neither of us went back up to the bedrooms. We sat in the living room, watching TV. When dad came home, we explained what had happened.
"Your mother, I can understand, but you?"
"I don't know what it is. And she ran away, leaving me behind; why am I sticking around?"
"What could it possibly be?" He shook his head disappointedly.
He went in and came out with something in a bag that he tossed from their balcony.
So, dad, what was it?"
"Nonsense."
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It was a fruit bat...
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