I'm The Geek Who Slapped A Football Player.

31 - Leaves/Cats

I force myself to take a deep breath and then make my shaking hand touch the door handle. Its ok, if you squirm the right way maybe she'll kill you faster. My subconscious says to me, and I about flip shit completely.

Then I turn the handle and open the door about half an inch.

There's a pause. I've shoved my right fist into my mouth to keep from screaming, and my eyes are screwed shut. I'm tense and waiting for her to barrel the door down and bodyslam me into the fridge. Then:

"Hello? Is someone there?"

I about choke on my own hand at the voice.

Its her disturbingly pleasant, almost girly voice that I first heard when I'd first ever met her. Not high or nasally, but still feminine and civilized. But there's something about the congenial quality of her voice, paired with her scary-as-fuck She-Gorilla appearance, that makes her all the more terrifying.

I haven't heard it since the day she'd began this mess at my locker. The only other times I've heard her speak she was pissed and wanted to kill me, yelling in rage. Her voice sounds again at the door:

"Hello?"

My brain goes into survival instincts, but instead of slamming the door in her face (like I would love to do) it had me answering her. "Y-Yes?" My voice came out hoarse because of how tight my throat was.

"Excuse me? I'm not sure if I heard you..."

Her terrifying, polite tone made me want to scream, but I answer again. But I keep the hoarse, high pitch to my voice, because now I'm pretty damn sure that she doesn't know its me! She would have probably grabbed me in her massive monkey hands if she actually knew who was behind this door.

"Y-Yes? I'm here." I force a cough to keep the rasping tone in my voice.

"This may sound ridiculous, but my Grandma has something that she wanted me to bring to her neighbors, but she didn't exactly tell me which neighbors. She just said to 'Bring it to the house next door'. And..." There was a shuffling noise and then she continued. "She has some cans of 'Fetter's Finest Feline Food' in this box. So I'm guessing you have a cat?"

Through my terror it takes me minute to process this. Mrs.O'Heimer sent Flora over here? To kill me? But does she know? But Flora doesn't seem to know this is me anyways. But Mrs.O'Heimer's sent me cat food? Why the hell...

"Oh God." The words leave my mouth without thought and I immediately clamp my jaw shut afterword. Oh shit shit shit shit shit... I'd just spoken in my actual voice very loudly. But it was because I couldn't believe why Mrs.O'Heimer had sent me cat food; because she still thinks I have cats! From last time when I'd been making up excuses for Mrs.O'Heimer!!

"Excuse me?" Flora answers a second or two late. Oh no. Did her voice sound suspicious? Oh fuck fuck fuck...

I cough some more and then scrape out the next sentence. "Y-Yes you are at the right hoouse. She sent that cat food over...for my cats. My cats...um..." Shit what are their names again?! Fuck my life! "Frisky, and...um Cuddles. And...oh yes, Nibbles. Frisky and Cuddles and Nibbles." Survival instincts are the only thing that had me remembering those names.

"Of course. And what...wonderful names ma'am." Flora's voice had the tiniest tinge of sarcasm in it, but I was glad of that, because that meant she hadn't figured out who I was yet. She speaks again. "My Grandma said she'd love to see your cats sometime. She loves animals but doesn't want to keep one because she says they're too energetic and she's getting to old for that kind of thing."

Too energetic? For HER?! That woman was as fierce as any twenty-something-year-old woman, the hell's she talking about not being energetic? And oh FUCK NO she cannot see my damned cats because I don't have any! My internal rant was ignored by my survival instincts. It had me answering in my creepy, scratchy high voice.