It all started last Thursday, I was resting my head against my sponge bob and marvel pillow when I heard it for the initial time. I jumped out of bed, placed my ear against the wall and waited. With the anticipation of a little school girl I nearly blew my composure but then my ninja skills set in. I waited all night to hear the sound once more, in kid language I waited 1 whole minute. After the absence of its presence I shrugged it off and went on reading my comics. The next day while handling some important stuff; polishing my action figures I noticed the sound was back. However, this time it didn’t seem too shy. I jumped up grabbed the AK47 from my latest and greatest GI-Joe from the new movie and did a semi, kart wheel to my ready position behind the closet door. He or she or it knew I was ready, not only because I said I was ready but for more obvious reasons. The ghoulish sound advanced toward me, and like a man I decided to do the next best action, I let out a high pitched shriek to top of my lungs and ran under the cover of my blanky. I knew it was scarred and I couldn’t blame it, I sounded pretty intimidating if I must say so myself. The sound sounded like a dog whimpering, a bunch a chains dragging, a wolf howling, and kinda sounded like my dad when he’s on the john…but that’s beside the point. It was freaky…dun, dun, dun. Well I didn’t feel safe, and so I used my lethal skills and fast paced brain to conjure up a plan. I thought I would first run the sound out of hiding, pounce with my fist of fury and then shove into a pillow case. Pretty bulletproof. The following morning I put the plan into play, I played some methodic music, set the lights down, and put a picture of me from 3rd grade to appear less impressive, as a technique to lure the ghastly ghoul and its sound. That night the plan was a success the sound was back and I was prepared. I had with me a flashlight for visual, a light-saber for protection, and some chewing gum for concentration. The door slowly opened, I nearly shouted at the sight, but I didn’t say a word. The foot steps along with the sound increased by the second. My heart was racing, my blood on fire, my pores began to release a flood of sweat, and my eyes were about to cry. Abruptly I maneuvered around the bed, and alongside the dresser…I waited, one, two, three, and then I pounced upon the creature and tried to silence its evil noise. When it finally calmed long enough for me to catch my breath, I turned it over looked it straight in the eye…and gasped. It, it, it was…a…really upset dad looking for some toilet paper. I asked in little kid voice, with my bubbly eyes, and lip protruding…are you ok? My dad leaped up and started saying some stuff…but then he explained he has been sick for the past few days…moaning and crying over stomach pains, how was I suppose to know. Anyway I apologized and chose not to explain my reasons for the onslaught. However, on the way out my dad wished my a good night and before he closed the door he quickly remember his initial reason for coming in my room…and stop making that noise.