The Pedosmile and Hallow Cat

I am usually fairly paranoid. This comes from ample life experience that has led me to believe I attract the abnormal. Going to my abnormal psych class is NOT helping my paranoia nor is volunteering at Utah State Mental Hospital. On Halloween, we talked about pedophiles amongst other disturbing sexual disorders which added fuel to my belief creepy people are everywhere. Luckily, I am married to a hulking man beast who is also quite suspicious. Unluckily, when we are together everyone (including the 90-year-old widow living in the house next to us), could be a crazy serial killer.

Halloween night, Sel and I were determined to find "What Lies Beneath". We looked EVERYWHERE: Walgreens, Smiths, 7-11, the Provo and Orem library, BYU media center and Red Box. Alas, no mildly scary movie. We had no other choice but to go to Wal-Mart at 10PM. Do you know who else goes to Wal-Mart at 10PM? Those select, elitist individuals whose main calling in life is to star in a horror film. Every single day at 10PM, Wal-Mart holds auditions for the freakiest of the freaks. As Sel and I scanned through the murder provoking bins of $5 movies, I felt the eyeballs of another human looking at me. I looked up and gave a polite smile to the guy next to me. I figured his attention was drawn to me because I was fully decked out in Hogwarts attire. Who wouldn't want to admire my fantastical robes made by my mom-in-law? Then I moved to another bin, and Mr. Pedosmile joined my bin two minutes later. Not unusual. Yet. He started to move a little closer to me and every time I looked up, guess who was staring me down and flashing an awkward lip smile framed by a dirty stache? He eventually left and I continued to drown in 800 copies of cheap movies. A few minutes later, I felt eyes on me again. I almost screamed as I stared back at Mr. Pedosmile hiding behind some ties a few feet away and shooting me his creepo smile. I decided Sel needed to come to my bin NOW. He, because he is the best, made his way over to my bin the way any gallant protector would. Sel scanned around for Pedosmile, but he had slithered into the clothes section. Of course. As is tradition in ANY store we go in, we made our way over to the Nerf aisle so Sel could admire the beauty of "safe" weaponized machinery. He assured me Pedosmile was a normal human simply looking around the store who unfortunately smiled like a classic van driving, glasses wearing pedophile. AND THEN lo and behold Mr. Pedosmile was lurking at the end of the Nerf aisle. I decided it was time we got out of there before he pulled out a weapon that shot more than orange fluff balls. I did a classic horror film look back as we exited the store to see Mr. Pedosmile looking longingly down the aisle at us.

Flash forward to 3AM later that night. Sel and I had just finished our studying/homework and were looking forward to five hours of blissful sleep when an eerie sound started to drift in through the window. "Mehooowll". We both tensed and continued to listen as a second mehoowll joined the first. I mentally cursed my father for telling me his novel, "Pet Cemetery", was from a dream he had. Liar! It was based on a real story and two of the cats from Pet Cemetery were outside our window hoping to scratch us to death.

Me: "What is that?!"

Sel: "Probably nothing. We should just go to sleep"

Me: (muttering under my breath) "It does NOT sound like nothing. It sounds like a ghost cat choking down human blood"

Sel doozed off and I stared at the window with blood shot bug eyes waiting for Clarissa the Cat to bust through the thin glass. In the morning, Sel helped calm my fears about the ghost cats.

Sel: "So the reason I didn't think we should look out the window last night was because it could have been a serial killer/rapist. They use the technique of recording cats or crying babies so you will open the door and they can kill you"

This was a HUGE comfort because I would much rather be brutally tortured by a psychotic human with zero remorse who derives intense pleasure from hunting out victims and watching them slowly die than being scratched by a ghost cat. Who wouldn't prefer a serial killer/rapist to a transparent ball of fluff? I know I would.

Ghost Cat

V.S.

Serial Killer