We live in a haunted house

I’m off work this month. Any time I’m off work, I do the same thing to myself: come up with all sorts of grandiose plans, an aim to be as productive as possible, not to squander and fritter away my time doing nonsensical things (like…what exactly?). Hence my August 2020 blogging challenge, with 10 posts this month, an average of 1 every 3 days. That’s just one of a couple of other [hare-brained] ideas I’ve got for this month.

And I have plenty of ideas, even more so now with so many great ideas from my readers to add to the list.

I’ve never been a good sleeper, but at the start of this month I was determined to make a valiant effort to try to get some proper shuteye. I did not get off to a great start.

But one night a few days ago, I did manage to get to bed early for once – my daughter wakes up at 6am on the dot most days, so that means I should be getting to bed by 10pm, right? If I want to get the requisite hours, yes. But I haven’t been to bed that early in…a looooooooooong time. Years, probably. I just don’t have the discipline.

So, I finally went to bed at a more sensible time earlier this week. Finally.

At around 2.30am my wife came bursting into the room frantically, in a panic, terrified out of her wits: there was a bat flying around in the other room. 

My daughter never budged or heard a thing.

The cat was having fun with the bat, terrorizing the poor thing. And there were small blood splotches on the curtains and on the wall. 

So much for getting a good night’s sleep.

What to do in a situation like this? Here is where I am proud to admit, in fact I have no qualms whatsoever about admitting that I…am…not…a…man…in situations like this. I wasn’t quite shitting myself, but I didn’t want to get attacked by a bat. I was freaking out.

I tried trapping the thing in a box, once it had attached itself to the curtains. But the box was all the wrong size and I wasn’t sure how I was going to close the lid on it. I also had a dish towel in my hand. For what? I don’t know. Probably to swat it away if it came for my head. 

My heart was pounding as I maneuvered the box away from the curtains and quickly tried to close the lid. The damn thing then went flying past my head and landed on top of the wardrobe in the corner while I went screaming out of the room and slammed the door shut. 

I didn’t want to attempt to capture this creature, so I did what my intuition – rarely my strength – told me and went back in, opened the window wide, turned off the lights, and closed the door. Turns out that, other than catching it, that is probably the best approach.

That was part 1. Part 2 was our fear over where the blood came from – the bat or the cat? Had our cat been bitten? Or had that little turd (the cat) done the biting? 

We examined her carefully – as carefully as she would allow us – and found no evidence of anything. We called the vet, who told us to chill out, the cat would be fine.

But the problem is, we’re not.

Further research and investigations suggest that our apartment is now haunted. Evil spirits came into the house along with that bat. The devil is now after us. We don’t know if redemption is possible, but we’re terrified. We can feel the presence of Satan, emanating through the walls. There is no doubt that haunted spirits have infiltrated the house. Bizarre, inexplicable – and unexplainable – things have been happening. The frying pan jumped off the stove. Our daughter’s stuffed animals have glowing red eyes. Her Chewbacca has been humming to himself. Snoopy moves his head, following our every movement. When we leave the room, the University of Miami dinosaur starts salivating. The penguin chants, speaking in tongues.

The cat is possessed and has started growling like a panther. 

The walls are quivering. The floor is rippling. The ceiling is undulating. 

We can feel the evil seeping from every crevice, every nook and cranny of this apartment.

The bat is gone, but the spirit remains and we now live in a haunted house.

It’s downright terrifying. I asked my sister, the animal behaviour ‘expert’ for advice, but this is beyond her area of expertise. When this was all unfolding the other night, I asked her whether we needed to worry about the cat. Her only concern was whether we managed to get a photo of the bat, and how cute it was.

None of that matters now. We’re possessed and the only solution is to cleanse this place of the demonic spirits that have taken over.

We’ve called in an exorcist, who will need a full week to work his magic. And he says, for it to fully take effect, we have to leave the territory, but leave the cat here. He says that the cat is possessed and she needs to be exorcised as well.

So we’re heeding his advice and fleeing to the safety and comfort of the Carpathians, in Western Ukraine. We’re hoping the fresh air and mountain vistas will help purge whatever evil might have subverted our souls. 

We’ll be back in a week, where we hope to find our cat cleansed of the evil, and a house free of the demonic, sinuous spirits.

Keep us in your thoughts.

And keep your windows closed at night.