I had no recollection of the mysterious experience of the night before. I awoke the next morning to the sound of more footsteps. These were quieter, but slightly slower and more direct. They were accompanied by the sound of my mother's voice, calling out to my brother as she approached my door.

“-and you didn’t take out the trash last night, I had to do it and roll the bins down. You really need to work on getting your work done before you start playing.” In the middle of her speech, she knocked three times on the door, the sharp knocks shaking me into some sort of awareness. “It’s nearly 9 o’clock Kat, you should be up by now.” She walked off toward the kitchen, calling out behind her, “I’m taking Hamish to the vet. When I get back, I expect the dishwasher to be cleaned out. We will then discuss the plan for the day.”

I lay in bed as her voice grew distant, and stared up at my ceiling until I heard the back door open, shut, and then lock. I continued to stare at the ceiling, existing in the silence. The ceiling matched the blue walls. I was surrounded by a box of blue. Now, I regretted my childhood self’s desire for a room that looked like the sky. I had put glow in the dark stars all over the ceiling and walls, along with happy little sticker clouds. Now, all I had was an ocean of blue and the little white rim that peeked out from around the base of the light fixture. I lay, unthinking in bed until the sound of plates clicking against each other reached my brain. I groaned quietly and shoved my body up. I glanced around my room, taking stock of the random water glasses on the dresser, the small stack of plates on the nightstand, the full hamper and the pile of clothes beside it. I had books and papers spread over my floor and a mountain of who knows what piles on my desk. The only surface that was somewhat clear was the area of space by the door that was necessary to the normal swinging function of said door.

I heaved my body out of bed and grabbed my robe off the floor (again) and clambered out of my room. Zach was emptying out the dishwasher and I quietly walked to the kitchen. When he saw me standing in the doorway, he handed me a small bowl.

I stared down at it. Why, I thought, did I always end up being the one doing this. Hadn’t I done enough? What with making the food, and cleaning up the dishes- multiple times yesterday- and taking care of all the chores while Zach just sat on his butt, staring at the TV or his phone? As I stood there staring at the bowl in my hand, Zach continued putting away utensils. He turned back to me, looking at me questioningly. I stared back.

“We’ve gotta have these put away. What are you doing?” He looked at me oddly, with an almost superior air. I just stood there, glancing unfocused between the bowl in my hand and him. He stared right back. I sighed and put away the bowl. I then mechanically started grabbing dishes, putting them away, and grabbing the next set. Zach left halfway through. I finished putting away the dishes in the same disconnected way I had begun.

I found myself back in my room, sitting in the armchair in the corner. I pulled out my phone and proceeded to lose track of time scrolling through social media.

The sound of the back door opening and paws bounding into the house pulled me from my phone. I left my room just in time to see Hamish bouncing around the corner. He froze in the middle of the living room when he saw me, and then ran up, grabbing onto the sash of my robe. He started a little bout of tug-of-war with me, which ended when I grabbed his stuffed goat and tossed it across the room. It landed with a honk, and distracted him so I could cross into the kitchen, where my mother stood, unloading after her visit to the vet. She set down her purse and emptied out a small plastic bag that contained two white bottles.

“I found a tick in his ear, so we need to start being a bit more mindful.” She finally looked up at me and saw me standing in my robe and pjs. “Why are you not dressed? Have you had breakfast yet?” I nodded and she turned to Zach. “And you?”

He also nodded and added, “I had yogurt with the cantaloupe that I cut up by myself without injuring myself or others.” Mom dipped her chin in acknowledgment and looked at me.

“Go get dressed and take care of your hair, face, and teeth. When you come back out can you please take the dog for a walk? Then we’ll talk about what’s to be done in regards to Grampy.”

I’d nearly forgotten about him. I nodded in acquiesce. As I headed out of the kitchen and through the living room, I looked out the large window. Beyond the sheer curtain, the hedge that lined the backyard and the tall trees swayed in the gentle breeze. In the grass, however, a strange shape shot across the yard.

It was low to the ground, with short, quick limbs. It’s body was long and dark, with lighter patches across its back. I moved closer to the window to get a better look, but by the time I got there, the creature had disappeared. The yard was now empty, save for the occasional random tennis ball.

I dressed quickly, grabbing whatever semi-matched and smelled clean off the floor before sliding into the bathroom. For the first time in about three days I brushed my hair. It was knotted and tangled up but I eventually got it all done. I tied it all up in a frumpy bun on the top of my head and prepped for washing my face. I turned the faucet on to give the water time to heat up. I grabbed all the bottles and washcloth and cotton balls, piling them on one side of the sink. I avoided glancing in the mirror while I completed the task, but it was impossible to completely avoid it. The brief glances revealed a pile of dirty-blonde hair, dark eye bags, bushy eyebrows, and less-than-perfect skin. Every time I caught a glimpse of myself, I quickly looked away.

I finished in the bathroom hurriedly, trying to get away from the mirror as fast as possible. I crossed the house to the mud room, grabbing Hamish’s leash. Stepping back into the kitchen, I called out, “Hamish babes! You wanna go outside! You wanna go for a walk!” The sound of paws hitting the floor quickly came, and the fluffy body of my black poodle came crashing into view. He ran across the kitchen and plopped his butt down right in front of me, tail wagging, waiting for me to put his leash on.

I laughed, clipping on his leash and leading him outside. He jogged around the yard, sniffing and playing until he reached the spot that I had seen the creature. He froze, sniffing hard, and then he flopped on the ground, rolling around in the spot where the creature had crawled.

“What are you doing, you silly boy? What was there? Why’re you rolling around?” He stopped rolling and looked up at me, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. I stared down at him. He then snorted, got up, and began walking toward the driveway. I followed. He proceeded to walk normally, as if the ‘rolling around in the dirt’ hadn’t happened. We walked through the neighborhood, until we reached the empty lot.

This lot had been empty and for sale for as long as I could remember. It was bordered by two houses, one on each side, and it’s back was bordered by a thicket of trees. The grass was tall, almost knee high, and wildflowers danced in the gentle breeze. A rustling suddenly started from near the middle of the lot. The grass and flowers moved erratically, and then began to move in a path. Something alive was in there. It quickly scurried through the tall grass until it reached the thicket of trees at the back. Hamish and I watched as a small, green, fox-like creature ran into the trees. I stood there for a few seconds, wondering what the hell I had just seen. I then snapped back to reality, and quickly led Hamish away, finishing the walk.