Bat Sh*t Crazy- Episode 3
I can no longer walk across a room without the horrific anticipation about what’s going to swoop at me.
The saying ‘silence is deadly’ qualifies to our family. I haven’t heard or seen the bat for a whopping 24 hours. But I feel it. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end. It would be too good to be true if the thing found its way out, or if the cats ate it. I can’t accept that- I don’t think I would ever sleep again. I need closure.
I developed a nervous tick. My head cranes in every direction at each little peep of a sound that comes from the room I’m in. Most of the time it’s the dog stretching or one of the cats chewing.
I’ve become an expert on rabies. The problem, I need to find the culprit to get it examined. I’ve come to the conclusion that I need to be writing my epitaph because if I don’t ever find this thing, I will never know to get a shot. The insurance company doesn’t want to cover that type of thing unless you’re sure you’ve been attacked. Being stalked in the middle of the night doesn’t count. I’ve assumed the possibility of me getting bitten. From there, it’s doom and gloom.
My kids named it. They call it Bruce Jr. They asked if we could keep him as a pet. I almost had a seizure. I just wish it would come out of hiding. I much prefer a lost hamster. Even a ferret or a rat would do. I may even consider buying a tarantula at this rate. Anything but a bat.
Sleep eludes me. I am still sleeping by candle light. I fear what I will see, but on the flip side, I need the light because I’m also scared of what I may not see. I feel confused, frustrated, and exhausted.
My husband promised me that if we were to win the Powerball that we would leave the house to the bat. We would purchase a new one. I never prayed so hard for the lottery in my life. We lost.
I now sit here, with only fingernail nubs, jittery as a crack head, jumpy as a dope dealer, praying like a pastor, and searching like a hunter. I’m hoping tonight brings me more luck in finding the beast.