It's time for another edition of Story Time with Melissa. I know you really enjoy hearing about how ridiculous I am. This time, you get to hear about how paranoid I am living alone. I know I only have myself to blame, probably. It's all my crime shows and movies and books that I read. But as a single female alone in a big ol house, I just assume I'm at the mercy of any serial killer ever. Or psycho that exists. Because my brain sucks.
Anyway, I briefly talked about how I scared myself in the shower about a month ago in my first vlog. Long story short, thought I heard light footsteps, accepted the fact I was probably about to get stabbed à la Psycho, and then realized it was my hair flipping water onto the plastic shower curtain. Smooth move Melissa.
Last night though, I wasn't hearing things. I wasn't crazy because I wasn't alone when it happened. Yay friends. Stacey is my witness. So, here we go, the story of how I didn't get any sleep last night and why I'm such a cranky bitch this morning.
Stacey and I were sitting in the foyer putting our boots on, chatting and giggling waiting for Travis (her bf) to pick us up to go to my soccer game. All of a sudden, the doorbell rings. Cool, we think it's Trav, so she throws open the door and.... no one. Hmm.. that's strange maybe he's at the back door.
I run to the back door and throw it open and... NO ONE. Okay what in the actual eff. So I cautiously (re: stupidly) walk out the door and say "Hello?". Nothing, no answer, no one there. So now I'm a little nervous cause uh hi horror movie. I look around and there's no footprints in the snow at the front or back. I locked that door faster than you can scream BOO.
I'm now convinced that a) there's a murderous psycho on the loose playing knock knock ginger and when I return home I'm toast, or b) a ghost, naturally.
Travis shows up, we leave a little shaken, go to soccer and I almost forget all about it. Then it's time to go home and I'm like eff my life here we go, dead. I made Stacey come inside with me while I checked every room, closet, under the bed, behind the door, behind the couch, under the covers, everything. I refused to go into the basement though, which is where I'm pretty sure the best hiding spot is so I know I'm screwed. She leaves, I set the alarm, I call my mom in a panic.
My mother ain't having none of my shit at 11 pm.
"Melissa, just lock the doors and set the alarm and you'll be fine."
"MOM, what if I die?"
"YOU'RE NOT GOING TO DIE. If you're worried, then come home for the night and stop being ridiculous. Go home if you're that scared."
"But I have nothing there to get ready for work in the morning.."
"So pack a bag or stay put, but make up your mind."
"Okay just stay on the phone with me until I get into my bedroom and lock the door."
"Sure. Fine. Hurry up."
I then proceed to grab the biggest knife in the kitchen, turn on all the lights in the house (sorry for the electric bill maybe guys) and lock myself in the bedroom. I then hang up with my mom, place the knife carefully on the bedside table, and turn on Netflix. Twenty minutes pass and I realize I have to pee. Oh god no.
I don't want to go. I don't want to leave the safety of my bed. But I wait as long as possible and curse all that water I drank at soccer and realize I can't hold it all night. So I actually grab the knife, throw open the bedroom door, and FBI my way out of there (aka back against the wall so I can't be surprised). I then proceed to do my business KNIFE IN HAND. Then I realize that I really hope it's not a ghost because what's a knife gonna do to a ghost? Ugh. I'm so thoughtless sometimes...
But I didn't die last night. I was not murdered. So I feel a lot better about everything this morning. But also, I'M SO CRAZY. My mother is convinced it had something to do with the melting snow and water getting into the doorbell ringer. Also, big thank you to everyone on snap chat who put up with/pretended to be worried about me last night. I'm looking at you Brooke & Jessi.
I also want to make a quick shout out to Ashley, who upon receiving this Snapchat does not ask if I'm okay, but instead asks "Why is there a quarter?". THANKS GIRL!