The Monster in the Attic

Pound, pound, pound. This wasn’t the first time I heard it, and I knew it wasn’t going to be the last, either. I was lying in my bed, as stiff as a doll, with my eyes wide, staring at the ceiling. The noise was coming from the attic. I could tell. I turned over and looked at the clock that displayed 11:23. My parents and sister would be sound asleep.

I quietly got up and opened my door and tiptoed down the hall to the attic staircase. I stopped there, though, wondering why I was doing this. Wasn’t it my sister who liked to sneak around at night?

I shook that thought off and, with a deep breath, opened the door a crack and peered inside. Silence. I opened it just enough to slip inside and flick on the light. Immediately the room burst into light, and I walked silently to the stairs.

As I crept up the foreboding stairs, the lights turned off! I froze, horrified, and bit my lip to keep from crying out. There, standing on the stairs, gripping the handrail with white hands, I heard the pounding again. I totally freaked out and just raced up the stairs in the darkness, not caring what happened as long as this stupid adventure was over. I slipped through the door and reached out for the light and was dismayed when I found out it was horribly dim.

That’s when I saw it, the shadow on the wall looming over me, with fur sticking straight up and razor-sharp claws.

I was terrified, horrified, and had to bite back a scream, when I looked down and saw the monster. It was just standing there, hissing. But it wasn’t a monster at all! It was my cat Rocky! I laughed out loud and turned back toward the door, glad to get a good night of sleep at last! Silly Rocky, scaring me out of my wits like that!