There would be no sleep for me. Instead, there would be agitated dogs, creaking doors, banging ducts…and loaded shotguns.
Just another night in the creepy old farmhouse.
We were awaked from a dead sleep at three am by the sound of old hinges groaning on the floor below…the basement. Mike (who usually tells me to calm down and go back to sleep) was out of the bed, pulling his rifle from the closet to load it. The dogs were growling at the floor grates and staring into the darkness at things I couldn’t see.
I begged my husband to dial 911 as he slid another round into his gun, and challenged the ghost to a duel.
I’ve seen the Amityville Horror…I knew what would happen next. I made sure the door to the basement was locked and blockaded. Just in case, of course. I don’t believe in ghosts, but in the event they believe in me, I figured I’d be ready.
Ok, I’m lying…I believe in ghosts. And vampires. And zombies. Something just as terrifying was hanging out in my basement, and my husband was in his underwear, loaded shotgun in hand.
And I’m so tired I can’t keep my eyes open a mintute longer, so I’ll tell you about his adventure in the dark basement with nothing but a flashlight for a weapon, tomorrow night.
I know…that was mean. But I really am exhausted!
Until the next time…I’ll be trying to sleep.