I swear, if I spent another minute in there I would have ripped my damn hair off. How can people be so stupid?
My work life consists of nothing but dealing with idiots over the phone and fixing the mistakes of people’s reports whenever they need to ask me for help. As much as I want to just get up from my desk and just call it a day around noon, the world sadly doesn’t work like that. But I’m pretty sure I’m going to have one of those days where I go off on somebody; everybody has one of those moments, right?
Leaving the thought of work behind in my car, I pull into the driveway of the house and quickly get out, setting the car alarm as I’m heading to the front door. I subconsciously fix the bottom of my dress skirt as if I’m heading to a business meeting. Keys in the locks, I push the door open and head inside, kicking off my heels and tossing them to the closest corner I can find.
As part of our tradition, one that Sam decided to start doing, I call out to her and say “Sam, I’m home!”
Usually, I either get a loud call back from her, get tackled by her suddenly bursting in from the living room, or get greeted by her in her pajamas and an apron prepping dinner. But today, none of that happened.
“Sam? Are you in here?”
I walk down the hallway and head into the living room to drop off my bag, but I don’t see Sam in there. I take a glance towards the back into the kitchen, but she’s not in there either. I try calling out to her one more time, “Sam? If you’re hiding somewhere and you’re trying to get the drop on me, it’s not gonna work.”
No response again. Maybe Sam stepped out to go somewhere? But even if she did, she would text me or something just letting me know if she wouldn’t be home by the time I get off from work. What the hell is going on?
I feel a bit of anxiety building up, but I try not to let it get me all riled up just yet. I head out of the living room and make my way upstairs. Each room door is closed except for the bathroom door, which is cracked open just a bit. Cautiously, I push it open so I can head inside.
Everything looks fine, no signs of a struggle or something happening. However, I start to see everything as a bad C-Grade horror film and head towards the shower curtains. Lo-and-behold, the exact thing I expected happens when I pull back the shower curtains.
Curled up in a ball, looking directly at me and screaming at the top of her voice, Sam screams.
I give a small sigh and shake my head, putting my hand on my hip as I look at my over-dramatic girlfriend, “Sam, what the hell are you doing in the tub?”
Sam’s voice trembles as she’s trying to hold back sobs, “I-I-I s-s-saw something! Attic! Creepy crawly!”