She woke up in the middle of the night to a very creepy sound. Alone in her one room apartment, fear gripped her, and the power was out. She searched for her flashlight, tapping her bed repeatedly with shaky hands like a blind woman.
Grabbing the flashlight, she turned it on immediately, flashing at every corner until she found the spot. Her bathroom.
She gulped hard as the weird sound became persistent, disrupting the peace and quiet of the night. She could hear her fast heartbeat. It was a cold night, but she was sweating.
Horrible thoughts flooded her mind. Could this be my death? What if it's a big snake? For she had watched far too many documentaries where snakes came out of people's toilet hole. She had goosebumps just thinking about that possibility.
Her flashlight was becoming faint, she hadn't charged it during the day.
"No, no, no, no, no, please don't give up now," she cried quietly, as though a little sound from her would warrant a quicker death. It was now or never, she had to do something.
She walked gently to her bathroom with trembling feet, saying inward words of prayer with quivering lips, like someone out in the snow.
With a quick move, she opened her bathroom and pointed out her flashlight as if it were a gun. And lo and behold, she found a little wall gecko struggling to get out of her bucket.
She hissed, and then heaved a sigh of relieve, feeling like the worse coward.
"That was a close call," she muttered to herself.
