Page 7 of Scaredy Cat
Too bad for them, becauseSquad Ghoulsdecided to ruin it for me.
The bitter taste in my mouth makes me hesitant to check my notifications, but I know I’ll be distracted by curiosity if I don’t look at what’s already been said about my review ofScare Factory. God, I hope the owner didn’t comment. While it hasn’t happened to me in awhile, it has before, and I don’t love the arguments in my comments about how I’m being unfair or showing favoritism based on my preferences.
Though, I’mpretty sureI have every right to do so on my own blog.
Instead I get lucky tonight, all the comments are innocuous or just service level. A few people agree with me, having gone for their opening night as well, and no one has anything particularly glowing to say about the new haunt. Too bad for them, because I doubtScare Factoryhas what it takes to be a long-lasting Halloween attraction when we’re so close to Chicago.
Thanks for your review!
Excited for your annual visit to Nightmare Ridge…
I bet I could scare you, but there should be a prize involved.
Have you considered going to?—
I stop reading mid-comment, my brain needing a moment to process what I just read. Scrolling back up, I tilt my head, bemused by the comment that ground my mental process to a halt.
I bet I could scare you, but there should be a prize involved.
That’s certainly…new. I read it over a few times, knowing that it would be better to just leave it alone. The comment feels off, and it’s very clearly different from the others posted. But it has a few likes, pushing it toward the top of the page, and I justcan’t help myself. I hit the reply button, my fingers soon flying over the keys.
The prize would be giving yourself a pat on the back and an internal sense of overwhelming accomplishment. What else could you ask for?My lips twitch in a small smile as I hit the enter key, posting the reply, and I close my laptop directly after.
I’m not expecting a reply. Maybe a like or three from people who see my response, but at least it’s something to distract me from the post aboutSquad Ghoulsthat I know will polarize some of my fans. And more likely, their fans who come to my page to see what I’ve written.
But…
Laying my laptop on the floor, I curl under my blankets, phone in hand and grope for the headphones I sleep with. That’s tomorrow’s problem. I’m done beingScaredy Cattonight; all I want is to go to sleep and shake off my irritation from the livestream I should’ve said no to.
4
“You’re not still sleeping.”The voice coming through my phone’s speaker has me opening my eyes until I’m squinting at the screen, with a frown on my face Madison can’t see. I groan to give her a verbal reply, then bury my face in my pillow once again.
“I’m still sleeping,” I mutter. “You know I was up super late withSquad Ghoulslast night. Let me sleep.”
“Not if you want your hair done. I’m outside. Get up, or I’ll go get your spare key from Mrs. Elmore.”
I sit up at that, rubbing my face and moving my phone to prevent it from getting lost under the comforter. “Why would you think I’ve given her my spare key?” I ask thoughtfully, blinking around the room and, as is my routine no matter how much of a rush I’m in, I yank my laptop off of the nightstand to let it thump onto the bed.
“Because you don’t like anyone within a five-mile radius of you, and she seems pretty trustworthy. I just worry she’ll die in her house and your key will fall into the hands of someone who will use it for nefarious deeds,”Madison remarks with dry amusement in her tone. “Think she’s awake yet?”
“Uh, no. No, I think she wakes up at three pm for a few hours, eats, and goes back to bed.” With my laptop open, I swirl my mouse around the screen, not paying attention to it as I glance through my social media pages for anything important.
If I’m avoiding my blog post until the end, well, no one really has to know except me. But finally, when I’ve found just a few likes and reposts of my latest content, I have no choice but to check that as well. Sure enough, the notification count reads 99+, and I have a feeling quite a few of those aren’t so friendly after last night.
There’s no way I’ll be able to skim all of them without finding a few about Miscreant Manor, or saying something unpleasant about my review ofSquad Ghoulsthat really could’ve been meaner.
I hadn’t talked about their little setup, after all. I didn’t say a word about how they created a scary situation just to try to freak me out on camera for their own gain. My jaw tenses as I skim through the first few comments, though thankfully they’re all positive.
“Persy?”Madison’s voice is mild, and she hides her concern well. She’s known me long enough to know what my morning routine is, so I have no doubt she’s at least suspicious that this is what I’m doing.
She also knows that my unfortunate, ingrained habit is skimming through for mean comments or negative remarks, ones that I’ll hold on to for far longer than anything positive I read.
“Yeah, I’m just checking emails,” I dismiss her, trying to brush off her concern.
“You mean you’re bad comment hunting.”She lets out a sigh.“Come on. Don’t do this today. Can’t it wait until we get back, at least?”
“It cannot, unfortunately,” I reply with a huff. “I just need…” I trail off, my heart twisting as I find a few examples of exactly what I’m looking for.
