Dear Home Invader,
I know that many people have asked for a continuation of my adventures in prenatal class, and I intend on one day giving them what they want. There are a couple of pages of notes on my desk right now, in fact. But with my wife being super pregnant, trying to move into a new house, and actually being somewhat busy at work, I haven’t been able to prioritize writing [EDITOR’S NOTE: Eli isn’t telling you that Fallout 4 also came out recently].
So I hope you understand how big a deal this is. I’m not only shutting down my Monday Morning to tell this story, I’m also writing something out of turn. I’m telling the tale, you see, of the scariest thing that has ever happened to me.
And it’s all because of you, Home Invader.
Let me set the scene for you:
It’s about 4:15 AM. I wake up, needing to take care of a biological issue. Get slowly out of bed so as not to wake my very pregnant wife. Let two of our three dogs outside. Engage brain enough to navigate the house in the dark. Quietly close bathroom door behind me.
Turn around, feel more than see that the other bathroom door is wide open. I think to myself, “Damn it,
Eli’s Wife, you’ve got to close that other door because [INSERT VALID REASONS HERE].”
Okay. Got that in your head?
I go to grab the doorknob and, again this is mostly done by feel as it is 4:15 in the morning, the house is pitch dark, and I’m not fully awake. Right before my hand makes contact with the doorknob my Spidey Sense starts buzzing. I mean a four-alarm, DEFCON 1, This-Is-Not-A-Drill buzzing. I feel the presence of some other person, some other thing in my house. Adrenaline floods through my body. My heart rate skyrockets. My now dilated eyes see the outline of a hooded figure standing in the doorway, moving towards me.
Several things happen in my mind at once: Something is wrong. Where is my wife? Keep this thing away from my wife. Fight or flight kicks in. I go to grab my would-be assailant. It moves in to grab me. Why can’t I attack? Oh god, what’s happening? Why won’t my limbs do what I want them to?!
From inside my head the thing speaks for the first time.
“Eli,” it says. The voice is haunting. Coming from everywhere and nowhere at once. Lovecraft himself hadn’t created such a bone-chilling apparition. My stomach tightened as the demon moved into the bathroom with an alien gait. Its movement so clumsy, so unnatural yet… Familiar?
KEEP IT AWAY FROM THE BABY!
Why won’t my arms work?! What is it doing to me?!
The lights come on of their own volition. The ghastly, hooded creature begins to take form in my blinded eyes. With no control over my arms and legs I use the last weapon available to me.
From the very depths of my soul I let loose a scream of abject terror. The creature shouts back at me, its fury equal to my fear.
Except…
Well…
The demon’s face coalesced in front me as my eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness. My reptilian brain shut down and the part of me capable of logic realized that I knew the voice that had said my name. I knew that awkward, stumbling gait.
All this, as I continued to scream into the face of my 5’2″ seven and a half months pregnant wife, wearing a hoodie and looking for all the world as if she knows, KNOWS the world is coming to an end because what else on Earth could possibly cause such a sound to come from me?
Her eyes were as wide as saucers. Her mouth looked like a cartoon, wide open and changing shapes as she screams in equal fear.
It takes a full 15 seconds for us both to stop. I collapse to the bathroom floor.
Shouting, I ask, “What the fuck were you doing?!”
“I couldn’t sleep” she weakly replied.
“So you were just standing there?”
“Yes.”
A beat.
The first giggle ripples through me as I begin to piece together the sheer absurdity of it all. The dogs outside are losing their minds due to the commotion. We get the pets squared away and I collapse to the floor again.
This time with laughter.
And that, Home Invader, was legitimately the most fear I have ever felt. Ever. Thankfully, it was also the funniest thing that has ever happened to me.
Love,
Elijah
Dear So and So 