Paranoia Cha-Cha-Cha
I lie in bed at night, imagining this bone-chilling scenario. I planned my escape, visualizing my emergency evacuation route. I'd slip out of bed and creep to the door of my bedroom. If it was late enough and my reptilian parents were asleep in the room across the hall, I would stealthily sneak past the door and flee toward the front of our ranch house. But if it was still early, which was when I usually had this frightening fantasy, I'd have to be more careful. In order to get out of the house, I'd have to be either very fast or very quiet.
The living room, where my parents were watching TV and pretending to be normal human beings, was adjacent to both the kitchen and dining room -- the only two rooms with doors leading directly to the outside world. Could I run fast enough to evade their flicking lizard tongues and quick lizard legs? I doubted my speed.
The alternative was to sneak out of bed and open the cellar door, which was just outside of my bedroom. But the door was creaky. They would be sure to hear and catch me before I made it down the steep steps and out into the backyard! Besides, the door had a lock at the top, and I was too short to reach it.
So out the kitchen door it would have to be! I ran - nay! I flew! - down the hall, into the kitchen, out the door! Into the dark night! I crossed the alley next to our house and raced up the street! But where would I go? What would I do? In this scenario all adults were potential flesh-eating lizard aliens. I could trust no one. And being in just the third grade, my knowledge of the neighborhood was as limited as my resources. How would I survive in this hostile world?
Better to stay quietly in bed and pretend I didn't know the truth about their identities. Maybe then they'd let me live to go to middle school.
In the meantime, I made sure to sleep under the covers, no matter how hot it was. Even if it was just a thin bedsheet, I felt safer. Because otherwise, a monkey would lower himself down from the ceiling by his tail and stick a hypodermic needle in my bum cheek. (This one had nothing to do with lizard aliens. It was just one of my quirks.)
I don't think I'll be reading this book when it comes out in a few months.
1 Comments:
You are funny. Better the monkey from the ceiling than the cold, bony hand from beneath the bed, reaching up to grab the exposed flesh of innocent sleeping children! Hence the sheet, because for some reason, those sheets pack a punch! They foil both needles AND bones!
I loved V! But then, I do have this sci-fi bent. . . I'm glad you had such an elaborate escape route planned TO GET AWAY FROM YOUR ALIEN PARENTS!! HAA HAA HAAAAAA!
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