AND NOW TO RELAY THE DRAMA THAT WAS LAST NIGHT; *HEM HEM* AFTER RETURNING INDOORS FROM CHECKING THE LIVESTOCK (and I mean actual livestock with horns and everything) IT WAS APPROXIMATELY MIDNIGHT AND, FEELING RESPONSIBLE I PROCEEDED UPSTAIRS, CHECKING DOORS AND WINDOWS AS I WENT. *I NOW TAKE THIS MOMENT TO EXPLAIN THAT FOR MT BROTHER'S BIRTHDAY HE RECEIVED A MAP ON A CANVAS AND AS IT IS YET TO HUNG IT RESIDES IN THE PLAYROOM/STUDY PROPED AGAINST THE WALL. ALSO MY PARENTS WHERE SPENDING THE WEEKEND AWAY FROM HOME. * AFTER COMPLETING MY NIGHTLY RITUAL AND PJ-ING UP I TOOK TO MY BED EXPECTING TO BE VIOLENTLY AWAKENED 6 HOURS LATER, HOWEVER IT WAS NOT TO BE. AROUND HALF AN HOUR OF CONTEMPLATING THE MEANING OF LIFE I BEGAN TO FEEL MYSELF DRIFT OFF ONLY TO BE STARTLED AWAKE BY WHAT I PERCEIVED TO BE A DOOR SLAMMING CLOSED. TRYING MY BEST NOT CONJURE UP IMAGES OF AXE MURDERERS I ATTEMPTED TO REASSURE MYSELF IT WAS ONLY MY SIBLING, UP FOR A DRINK OR SOME OTHER LOGICAL SHIT...OR ACTUAL SHIT. IN AN EFFORT TO PROVE MYSELF AS BEING RIDICULOUS I ROSE FROM MY BED TO LOOK IN ON AFOREMENTIONED BROTHER ONLY TO FIND HIM DEAD TO THE WORLD, COMPLETELY ZONKED. THIS BROUGHT ME TO TWO CONCLUSIONS: 1. THERE IS A MURDERER IN MY HOUSE, SLAMMING DOORS AND 2. I AM THE SOLE PERSON BETWEEN THEM AND MY SLEEPING SIBLING. STEELING MYSELF I WENT DOWNSTAIRS, DOING MY BEST TO AVOID MAKING NOISE. I STOPPED BY THE HOTPRESS AND LIFTED MY DUSTY HOCKEY STICK, I WAS READY. TIP TOEING AROUND THE GROUND FLOOR OF YOUR OWN HOUSE CLUTCHING A HOCKEY STICK WHILE WEARING A DRESSING GOWN IS AN INTERESTING EXPERIENCE TO SAY THE LEAST BUT I FELT THE FIERCE PROTECTION AND ADRENALIN OF THE APPROACHING FIGHT. WITH HINDSIGHT THIS SEEMS A RATHER EXTREME ASSUMPTION BUT IN THE MOMENT I WAS JOSHUA AT THE BATTLE OF JERICHO OR HARRY POTTER FACING VOLDEMORT. MY HEART WAS PALPATING, MY HANDS SWEATING AS I READJUSTED MY GRIP ON THE HOCKEY STICK. I FOUND THE DOOR INTO MY LIVING ROOM SHUT AND AS I PASSED THROUGH BOTH IT AND THE KITCHEN DOOR I FOUND ALL WINDOWS CLOSED. ALL DOORS LOCKED AND INTACT. I WENT THROUGH MY UTILITY, ALL AS IT HAD BEEN HALF AN HOUR PREVIOUS. MAKING A CIRCLE THROUGH THE GARAGE INTO THE LIVING ROOM, THE SWEAT RUNNING DOWN MY BACK, EVERYTHING WAS SILENT. RE-ENTERING THE LIVING ROOM I FOUND ALL TO BE AS IT WAS, I THEN PASSED THROUGH INTO THE PLAYROOM/STUDY. THE CANVAS HAD FALLEN FORWARD, CAUSING THE 'DOOR SLAM'. MY CRUSADE HAD BEEN IN VAIN. MY BRAVERY AND COURAGE WASTED. I KICKED THE CANVAS ON MY WAY BACK UPSTAIRS.