I was attacked.
You see, about a week ago, I thought it would be funny to sneak into the guys' dorm through an open window and scare the cleaning crew. (Don't tell me you wouldn't have taken that opportunity!) Well, my plan backfired and Micah chased me all over that building. When I finally escaped, my heart was racing and I could barely read... I mean, breathe (or think, apparently).
To nurse my wounds, I turned to the one place on campus that gives me comfort: the SRC (for readers who don't know, the SRC is the school library). A few hours later, I awoke from my slumber beneath the couch to utter darkness. Unfortunately, the silence was not quite as 'utter.'
Shallow breaths aside from my own shook the stillness of the room. Then I began laughing to myself. I wasn't the only one who fell asleep, I thought. Gingerly and in higher spirits, I crept forward on the rug toward the emergency exit. If only I had a screwdriver, some olive oil and a sock. My friend Katrina had shown me a sure-fire escape plan for any situation. This time, however, I would need to use the old-fashioned crash bar escape.
As I reached the edge of the rug, my toenails clicked against the wood floor. Stopping for a moment to cringe, I realized the breathing had ceased. Before I could react, the intruder seized my poor tail. That's when I reacted - turning, I sunk my teeth into the arm that held me and flailed my paws wildly. Stunned and slightly distracted from the searing pain recently incurred from my defensive bite, the perpetrator's vice-grip released. Leaping into the darkness ahead, I shot across the library with haste, mounted the other couch, and dove for the crash bar. Caught by the wind, the emergency door flung open, and I tumbled into the freedom of the night air.
I don't know what happened to the guy, but I haven't been back to find out....
*Disclaimer: The SRC is completely safe. There were neither trespassers nor squirrels in the building. No people or animals were harmed during the writing of this blog.
