I stick my hand under the rush of water splashing into the tub. Now it’s too hot, I turn the nozzle toward cold, let it run and stick my hand under again. Ugh, too cold. I hate baths, but the shower head broke last week and the plumber isn’t coming until next week. I’ve put this bath off as long as possible, but as mom said, I stink. I told her the smell was part of my Halloween costume. I’m going to Matt’s party as a zombie, and zombie’s stink. She wasn’t buying it. She might be right, most of the 8th grade will be there. I slip into the warmish tub, reach for the shampoo, lather up my hair and wonder how I’m going to get rid of all the soap in the tub. How do baths work anyway? I’m a supposed to drain the tub and refill it to rinse off. Stupid shower head.
The doorbell rings. Oh shit! I’m home alone. Mom’s gone for a run. She asked me to listen for the door; she’s expecting a package and someone has to sign for it. Shit, I have to answer it. I drag myself out of the tub, the movie I watched last night comes to mind. Why did I watch that movie? (Ding, dong) Splash, oops, crap, there goes the soap, behind the toilet. The movie with that creepy guy in the mask, with the machete. Wow, this floor is super slippery. Drip, drip. (Ding, dong) I wrap a towel around my waist and slip, slid down the hall. Shit, ouch, the soaps running into my eyes. I can barely see. I’m an easy target for the machete guy. (Ding, dong) Oh, stop already, I’m coming. Through the whole movie, I was yelling at the stupid girl, DON’T OPEN THE DOOR, DON’T OPEN THE DOOR. And here I am, going to open the door, and I’m butt naked. As I pass my bedroom I look in and see the axe for my zombie costume. It’s a very fake looking plastic axe, but I figure it’s better than nothing. Maybe I’ll look scary. Hand tight round the handle of my axe, I continue down the hall. Hey machete guy, here I come. I peek around the corner. I can see a large blob through the wavy, and by the way useless, glass window in the door, because okay, no one can see in, but you can’t see if it’s the machete guy either. (Ding, dong). I take a deep breath, run to the door, and fling it open. I’m grasping my towel in one hand, in the other I’m holding the plastic axe over my head.
My mom looks at me kind of strange, and says, “I’m sorry hon, I forgot my keys”.
Happy Halloween Everyone!!!
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