Disclaimer: Those who get scared easily might not want to read this.
Cue the spooky music and let’s have this narrated by Morgan Freeman in your mind.
“It was just another cool day in October that I remember oh too well. It was like it happened yesterday. The day, let me think, it was a Wednesday… and the trees swayed with the smell of fall. Friends everywhere were coupling up for the long and lonely winter ahead and those who couldn’t find someone to hibernate with were never heard from again… they’re probably still working on getting one arm disproportionately large from too much internet porn.
The leaves rustled and danced across the cold pavement of the street. I was on my way home. Home; the place where my heart lies and also my boyfriend. Home is where I truly feel at ease. It’s where I unwind after a long day of mining for diamonds, underground, in the depths of Florida’s aquifer. It was a bad day in the mines today. Not a single diamond was found. Now that I think about it, we’ve never actually found any diamonds. And the mines look much more like my padded room on days when the doctors up my anti-psychotic medication.
But everyday I’m digging…digging…digging like a gold digger. Or a diamond digger.
I pulled into my parking spot and decided to take the stairs today. I don’t really trust that elevator. It shakes sometimes and I can feel it judging me. It’s always been so pretentious. Sprinting up a few flights, I made it to my door with my freshly vacuumed ‘Happy Halloween’ doormat. I turn the keys and….BAM! The door gently opens and I entered.
After removing my shoes from my hands and my gloves from my feet I opened the refride-or-a-tore only to see an all-i-ga-tore. I quickly popped another anti-psychotic and she disappeared to the back of my mind where my imagination has gone to die. I scanned the fridge looking for a most beloved bottle of cheap wine only to see that it was empty in the recycling bin!! ‘WTF?!’ I thought, ‘those fucking cats of mine drank my goddamn wine? Again?!’
That’s okay, that’s okay, Amy, just go to the store where they keep more beloved bottles….Okay….
I sped the whole two blocks to the grocery store and hit a panther on the way there. I ran, disheveled and hysteric to an unknowing bagger and screamed some incoherent jargon at him and he got this really quizzical look on his face.
“Ma’am?” Do I look old enough to be a ‘ma’am’?? “What are you looking for?”
“Wine! For God’s sake I need your cheapest bottle of wine!”
Then he looked really sad and said, “I’m not sure if this is a joke or not but wine hasn’t been legal in America for something like 15 years.”
___________________ <–(This is my heart beat)
I stumbled out in a crazed stupor when suddenly I heard someone calling my name. “Amy…Amy can you hear me? Amy?”
I suddenly snapped out of my craze and realized I was in my room at the mental ward and you walked in and asked me why I was talking to myself.”
“And? Why exactly were you talking to yourself?”
“Well, It was just another cool day in October that I remember oh too well. It was like it happened yesterday…”
©This story is the sole property of me and I know it’s really awesome.