I have had much scarier things occur in my life, but this tale sticks out (probably because I was so young and had the responsibility of playing host to a group of friends).
It was a sleepover at my place. Four of my best friends and I were all between the ages of 8 and 9. We were hanging out in my room at the late hour of 9 pm or 10 pm chatting away.
(Remember at 8 years old you are afraid of the dark, other people’s houses, and well, mostly just the dark.)
Aly was thirsty and wanted a glass of water. Although I was the party host, I was afraid to walk down the dark hall, past the front door and into the kitchen all by myself. What if there were wolves, or a monster, or who knows?
I tried to pawn the job of on someone else by saying it was my responsibility to stay with the group. However, after much debating and “No! YOU do it!”s we all agreed to walk down the hall, past the front door, and into the kitchen TOGETHER. This would assure that no one would have to go by themselves, and no one would be left behind.
I lead the frightened procession with my posse backing me up. I remember we kept poking each other in the ribs to scare each other before we even made it out of my room. My pulse was racing, but in my head I knew that there was nothing actually scary in my house. The hallway at night was the same hallway during the day. I visualized myself turning the light on to the empty kitchen and us all laughing our cares away at how stupid we were.
We inched down the hallway with many a, “shut up you guys!” and “wooOooOos!” and even a “BOO!” by our most annoying friend. I turned with a big, “SHHHH! If my mom hears this she will separate us!” They annoying friend only got one sentence out about ghosts attacking Ruth before I gave another “SHHH!” Great, now I was also worried about ghosts.
At that everyone gained their composure and we got past the scariest part (passing the front door) with no problems. Everything was dark and I had to let my hand trace up the wall to find the kitchen switch. This pause was very dramatic. It was five girls huddled in a doorway awaiting the kitchen to be illuminated.
The funny part is that we all knew we were being silly. I continued to imagine myself getting the glass from the cabinet and us all laughing it all off.
My hand found the switch and our eyes were pulled to something large moving on the counter. Our ten eyes locked on to a large creature eating a bit out of a cantaloupe on the counter.
I remember the animal being bigger than the juicy melon, but mostly the rodent’s surprised, furry face looking straight at us. After what felt like eternity, one girl let out a shrill scream and our new friend leaped off the counter and dove across the floor, under the dishwater.
I don’t remember if we ever got Aly her water.
The rat was not what was scary, it was the fact that we had set ourselves up for a big laugh over nothing and were denied that fun! Maybe it would not have been so scary if we hadn’t psyched ourselves out so much.
Yep, below is what it pretty much looked like.
To this day, I can not decide if that rat is what made the party, or what ruined it. Sure it was gross and uninvited, but it was also memorable and taught us to sometimes expect the expected.
Come to think of it, maybe that’s why I did not have too many more sleepovers in that house.
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