Normal 0 Chapter three: Shallow Breathing

I opened the door to my house rather treacherously with all the heavy bags of goods rapped around my arms. I kicked the door closed with my foot and proceeded farther into my home. Lighting flashed outside and thunder rolled like a giant. I will admit that I may have flinched just a little, however I am far manlier then to overreact. It did take me quite some effort not to look like an idiot as I dove to the floor, terror ripping through me like a sward. I lay there on the cold tiles for a good seven years, but then I looked up at the clock and realized it had only been two minutes. I then gathered up my dignity and bags and set them on the dining room table. Letting out a heavy sigh I decided to take a shower before eating diner.

            I switched on the hall light and sauntered my way through the flickering glow, scratching my hind. At the end of the hall and to the left was a tiny bathroom that had everything crammed into one, small space.

I undressed and entered the shower, turning it on. I let the warm water flow for a few moments and then grabbed a bar of moldy soap. I began to hum a tune to a song that I liked but could not remember the name of, when there was a creaking through the house. I stopped scrubbing myself for a moment, but then shrugged and went on. It was an old house any way. What a piece of junk! I thought as a particularly loud creak crept over my head.

            But then…I heard…Shallow breathing!

            I froze. The sound was coming from the hall. I stood still. The sound of the shower water pouring was making it hard for me to hear so I turned it off. The knob squeaked. And then I heard the door creaking eerily as someone swung open. The breathing got louder; it was shrill and painful sounding.

            I felt my heart skip several beats in my chest. There was someone in my house! What should I do? I can’t just run; I’m naked! Not to mention that even if I were dressed I still wouldn’t be able to get away.

            The breathing came closer…and closer…and closer.

            I let out a little whimper and held my clenched hands under my chin. I was going to die!

            But then the breathing stopped…nothing.

            I sighed, relieved to know that it must have just been my imagination. You’re just paranoid from hitting that squirrel. I tolled myself, consciously. But just to make sure I was really being paranoid…I smiled and pulled the shower curtain aside. I shrank back and took up a pose of defense, screaming. A dead squirrel lay on the bathroom floor! I stared at it, and it stared back at me, dead, of course, but all the same that thing was staring at me.

            I dared not move without an explanation of how a dead squirrel had gotten into my bathroom. Thoughts raced through my head. Should I take it outside? Should I call 911? Would 911 even care what happened if I told them that a dead squirrel somehow appeared on the floor in my bathroom? Would they then arrest me, thinking that it was a prank call? Was I being…haunted? I shook my head and settled myself back into a semi normal position for standing. You’re just being stupid, Norbert. I told myself, and stepped out of the shower.

            I pulled my change of clothes on, not ever even glancing away from the mushy dead tree-rodent on the floor. Naturally, though, if you do not pay attention to what you are doing, you will have the tendency to fall over. This happened to me multiple times sooner than I could fully dress myself, but I did it eventually.

            Next thing I knew it, I was pushing open the back door to the house, holding a pare of pliers at my arm’s length. Guess what I was using them for. I had the squirrel’s tale pinched between the teeth of the rusty tool. Holding the corps over the side of the porch, I held my breath and dropped the body. It made a nauseating squishing sound when it splattered on the ground. My face turned green. Oh no! I thought, and my hand reflexively went to my mouth. My cheeks swelled with my last meal and I disposed of it over the side of the porch. I straitened, wiped my face off with my sleeve, and ran inside, shutting the door behind me.