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Alien in the attic
There’s an alien in my attic. He talks to me through Morse code. My roommates say I’m crazy. They tell me that the things I hear, the ruffling in the attic, is nothing but squirrels that have burrowed their way into our home. That the stomping and the sliding aren’t messages but rather a figment of my overactive imagination. But they don’t hear his footsteps moving throughout the night. They don’t know that he speaks only through Morse code. The stomping and sliding o his feet are messages only I understand.
I shout as I leave a room, stomp my feet through the house so he always knows where I am, so he has time to leave a room before I arrive, and keep all the doors closed whenever I’m home alone just in case he wants to come down. My roommates say I’m paranoid, that the alien I the attic doesn’t exist, but they don’t know what I know.
There came a weekend where all my roommates went out of town. I was left alone in a house with three dogs and a strange alien in my attic. I closed my roommates’ bedroom doors to keep the dogs out and I closed the guest bedroom door because it led to the attic. The moment the door was shut the thumping began. A long scrape, then four stomps, then another stomp, then another stomp and a short scrape, then another short scrape, then a scrape a stomp and another scrape and finally three stomps. “Thanks” he said. I shouted my reply and went along my way, ignoring the squeaking sound that meant the attic was being pulled down.
The weekend passed like that. I’d announce that I’m going to the kitchen and he’d stomp out an, “ok”. I’d tell him that I’m leaving for the dog park and to expect me back in roughly four hours and he’d once again, stomp out an “ok”.
Then Sunday came around and my roommates came home. I forgot to warn the alien. So when they walked through the guest room to get to the laundry room and saw the attic down and an alien sleeping in one of the beds all I could do is say, “I told you there was an alien in the attic.
