After a long day, I returned home last night. I entered my room and as I switched on the light, I jumped. I had scared this furry little creature that was probably having a really good time on my table. In the dark he felt safe and free.
Enough of him already. He was afraid of me but more importantly, I was afraid of him. [I am just assuming it is a 'him'. call me sexist :p] I ran towards my parents' room and they tried to kill the poor little thing [I wasn't so sympathizing last night]. My parents tried for an hour but couldn't find the poor guy. He is still probably hiding somewhere here. I slept in the guest room last night to give the guy a little freedom [Who am I kidding? Yes, I was afraid of the little guy...he is a rat!].
This morning when I opened the door to my room, I was expecting that ball of fur to be there. I was just gonna get my clothes and then leave him be. But he wasn't there. Yes I wanted him to go away. But now he is hiding somewhere around, too afraid to come out. I did this to him. Why do I feel terrible? It was a rat!
