Shattered Silence

One night during the week, I took advantage of the fact that everyone had gone to bed super early. I turned off the TV, light some candles and ran a bath. We have a huge claw footed bath so I filled it with bubbles. I put on some relaxing music,  turned off the lights, nudied up and slid in.

I lay perfectly still and did some breathing exercises. My plan was to get myself into a total state of bliss and jump straight into bed, ignoring the inevitable ass gas perfume that Mr Woog would have supplied to the bedroom. I would then have 8 hours of still sleep and wake to find I had lost 10 kilos and by breath smelt like sweet peas.

I lay in that bath and let the warmth carry away my concerns of the day.

I did not hear the door open. I was not sure whether I had closed it to be honest. I heard no footsteps or had no idea that I was being watched.

I screamed as a black shadow leaped up, up, up and over the edge of the bath, landing with a thud on my shoulders. I winced at the pain of a dozen tiny daggers sticking into my chest. My loud screams bought no one running to save me. Fuckers.

My flight or fight instinct kicked in. I was not going to die in the bath. I kicked and pushed my attacker until I knew he had retreated back into the darkness. I felt my heart racing as I sprung from the warm water like a Chinese trampolinist, slipped around a bit on the sudsy tiles and scrambled to the safely of my bedroom, breathing hard. Terrified. Locking the door behind me.

I slept with one eye open that night. One eye opened.

Do it again Chuy and I will send you to a whack job on Animal Hoarders.