A Fright in the Night

I’m startled awake as I hear a noise in my dark bedroom, dimly lit only by a nightlight in the far corner. The digital clock on my nightstand reads 3:43 am. It’s quiet. What woke me up? What did I hear? Is there an intruder in the house? 

I try to remember if I locked the front and back doors before I went to bed, but I come up blank. I was so tired when I got home from work late last night that I barely had the strength to shower and eat a quick bite before I made my way upstairs and tumbled into bed–lights out.

There have been reports lately of burglaries in the neighborhood. The police advised residents to stay alert and keep their doors locked. Still can’t remember if I locked mine though. Why can’t I pay more attention to these things?  

And then, there are the local legends of Bigfoot sightings in the area. I’ve always thought these tales of wild ape-like animals roaming about were little more than superstition, but who knows, really?  

I stay as still as possible and strain my ears for a noise–any noise. It’s still quiet. I hear only my shallow breathing and beating heart. Maybe it was only a dream? Maybe I didn’t really hear anything at all?

I reach under the bed for my .22 revolver, but I feel nothing. Drat! It’s gone, and just when I need it most! Then I remember I cleaned it a couple of weeks ago in the garage after shooting at the range, and I left it there. I kicked myself mentally. Why was I so careless to leave it there? A weapon is no good to me if it’s not near me. 

I try to think of something close by that I can use as a weapon. My baseball bats are in the garage. My knives are downstairs in the kitchen where they should be. My little Swiss Army knife with its tiny one-inch blade is in my nightstand, but would be of little use to defend against an attack, anyway.  

I tense and hold my breath as I hear something. I feel my forehead bead with sweat and my heart pounds like a bass-drum. It’s close, very close. The sound is coming from my bed, ominous and loud. The sound is coming from me! 

My stomach growls like an angry beast, and hunger pangs stab me like a knife. 

“Ooh!” I gasp, “thank God!” I relax my body and exhale the breath I have been holding for what seems an eternity. I’m relieved that the noise that awakened me was not an intruder intending to rob or do me harm. It was an intruder alright, but only my empty stomach–bellyaching and complaining, waking me to say I need food–and I need it now! 

I think back to last evening, and I’m not even sure if I ate anything for dinner after all. When I got home, I was so tired that I must have fallen asleep before I could even eat!  

I laugh as I recall my little fright. I hop out of bed and head down the stairs to the main floor. First thing is to make sure I’ve locked those doors. Then get my handgun from the garage and put it back underneath my bed, within reach where it should be. Not that I’m afraid or anything, but you never know, especially with a burglar or Bigfoot on the prowl. 

And then, once I know I’m safe–as safe as I can be–I need to feed this hungry, scary beast that’s growling inside me. Because it’s a very hungry, very scary beast indeed!