My Midnight Adventure
I went to bed around 1:00 a.m. Sunday night (EJ is on swing shift, so I maintain his schedule). At about 4:30, I wake up with the cold, demonic fear in the pit of my stomach indicating there are Others attacking me - it is, unfortunately, not uncommon. I try to go back to sleep, but then realize I'm hearing more noises than usual and begin to think my mind is playing tricks on me above and beyond what the demons normally do. I have to use the restroom and decide it will be the perfect way to clear my head. As I get up, the noises to do not go away - weird noises unlike apartment complex babble. As I near our bedroom door, the light in the hallway flicks on, seemingly by itself. The fear grows stronger and colder, and it dawns on me that this may not be the work of demons, but of an actual intruder. My heart beats faster and I take a step closer to the hallway, just one step more and I'll be through the door.
Suddenly, I see a shadow moving on the carpet and my heart jumps into my throat. There is someone in my home. In a panic, I slam the door shut and jump on EJ's side of the bed to warn him -he's not there. My fear-crazed mind, however, can't process this fact so I reach for the shotgun under our bed. I don't know if it's loaded or not; EJ has shown me how to check before, but I can't seem to muster enough strength at the moment to pull back the fore-grip. I pray that it is loaded and settle myself on top of the covers facing the door, shotgun in hand, ready to scare the living almighty out of anyone unlucky enough to walk through it.
Meanwhile, nothing happens, no one bursts in and my panicked mind begins to calm down enough to restart limited functionality. "EJ is not in bed" + "There is someone in the dining room" = "It's probably him out there". However, there is still just enough fear pumping through my veins that I maintain my grip on the shotgun until such time as someone should come through the door, I just don't point muzzle in that direction. I don't have long to wait, thankfully; the door soon opens and there's EJ, cell phone in one hand (from whence came the strange noises I heard earlier), doorknob in the other, standing stock-still as he tries to process the fact that his wife is sitting on the bed with a shotgun at the ready and a crazed look upon her face.
My vision blurs a little in relief and the first thing out of my mouth is, "Don't you ever f***ing do that again!!" What it is he's not supposed to do -walk about it his own home? / try out the new ringtones on his phone? - is never fully clarified, because the first thing out of his bemusedly upturned mouth happens to be, "Is that thing loaded?"
Turns out, no, it never was.
And, with that, my midnight adventure came to an end, I began shaking uncontrollable and EJ had to hold me for a few seconds until I regained my composure. Thank you, Lord, that it turned out the way it did.
The next day, EJ reminded where he keeps the shells and how to properly load the gun. Turns out, it was a good thing he did, because just this morning he left early and I fell back to sleep, not expecting him back for a good while, so when I woke up to someone opening the front door only an hour later, I pulled out the shotgun again (I guess I'm still a bit jumpy) and this time managed to open the chamber and hold a shell over it, ready to drop it in should the need arise.
Yes, it was EJ, and, yes, he was simply home early. >.<
Suddenly, I see a shadow moving on the carpet and my heart jumps into my throat. There is someone in my home. In a panic, I slam the door shut and jump on EJ's side of the bed to warn him -he's not there. My fear-crazed mind, however, can't process this fact so I reach for the shotgun under our bed. I don't know if it's loaded or not; EJ has shown me how to check before, but I can't seem to muster enough strength at the moment to pull back the fore-grip. I pray that it is loaded and settle myself on top of the covers facing the door, shotgun in hand, ready to scare the living almighty out of anyone unlucky enough to walk through it.
Meanwhile, nothing happens, no one bursts in and my panicked mind begins to calm down enough to restart limited functionality. "EJ is not in bed" + "There is someone in the dining room" = "It's probably him out there". However, there is still just enough fear pumping through my veins that I maintain my grip on the shotgun until such time as someone should come through the door, I just don't point muzzle in that direction. I don't have long to wait, thankfully; the door soon opens and there's EJ, cell phone in one hand (from whence came the strange noises I heard earlier), doorknob in the other, standing stock-still as he tries to process the fact that his wife is sitting on the bed with a shotgun at the ready and a crazed look upon her face.
My vision blurs a little in relief and the first thing out of my mouth is, "Don't you ever f***ing do that again!!" What it is he's not supposed to do -walk about it his own home? / try out the new ringtones on his phone? - is never fully clarified, because the first thing out of his bemusedly upturned mouth happens to be, "Is that thing loaded?"
Turns out, no, it never was.
And, with that, my midnight adventure came to an end, I began shaking uncontrollable and EJ had to hold me for a few seconds until I regained my composure. Thank you, Lord, that it turned out the way it did.
The next day, EJ reminded where he keeps the shells and how to properly load the gun. Turns out, it was a good thing he did, because just this morning he left early and I fell back to sleep, not expecting him back for a good while, so when I woke up to someone opening the front door only an hour later, I pulled out the shotgun again (I guess I'm still a bit jumpy) and this time managed to open the chamber and hold a shell over it, ready to drop it in should the need arise.
Yes, it was EJ, and, yes, he was simply home early. >.<
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