Huddled together in a neglected bedroom, we were eight-year olds on a sleepover. In the attic, not a bedroom downstairs. The mattress sagged, dust flittered in the moonlight like bugs, and the redolence of cigarette-infused mustiness clung to everything.
Our adventure in the periphery of an ordinary house begged an extraordinary story—something creepy. Like bats. My prematurely bald father had recently swatted a roosting bat from nearby eaves.
“Do you know why Dad is bald?” I whispered conspiratorially to my cousin. ”Bats ate his hair.”
Horrified into tears, she ran down two flights of stairs. I remain unforgiven.
almulstay
annepellett
apontius18
calumetkid
The Scribbler
doanne2280
doug18sturgeon
gepawh
suzanneruddhamilton
Janet DeLeo
jannray
J. E. Marksteiner
kpbenefits
Leon Schofield
leeroc3
Patti M. Walsh
rightwrighting
Sallyhp
santeach
Shel Orkin
JackoRecords
tkcmo
tonydecap1
wordsmith50
Pelican Pens Writers 
I like the term ‘neglected bedroom’—it could mean a lot of things (and could be a title for a new story). And those saggy mattresses were pretty common back in the day!! Attics and bats are a great scene for a scary story!
LikeLike
Attic settings always promise something weird or terrifying, and you delivered.
LikeLike
I always was puzzled by that stuff that floats about, mostly unseen. What the heck is that?
LikeLike
I always was puzzled by that stuff that floats about, mostly unseen. What the heck is that? I want the kids to grow up, become scientists and discover that the stuff is some strange life form from another planet. But that is for the next sci fi story.
LikeLike
Always knew bats ate hair. Your cousin and you were right on (more you). A humorous good one…
LikeLike
Funny! You create great anxiety, and end it with beautiful humor!! Well Done.
PS- I can almost smell the “cigarette infused mustiness that clung to everything!”
LikeLike