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Milo was slightly hungry in the middle of the night on a boring Tuesday night. He wanted brownies but he was scared of his Grandma waking up.
Screw it. Milo thought. If he wanted some brownies in the middle of the night, he would get some.
Stepping slowly down the stairs, he felt his way around. Hand on the rail, he inched down step by step into the darkness, wincing whenever he heard a floorboard creak.
Milo slowly got to the kitchen, celebrating in silent joy. He started on the brownies before something caught his attention.
A loud creak from the living room echoed throughout the house, filling him with an impending sense of dread. He knew what it was, he knew what his fate was if he didn't bolt like a damn rabbit right fucking now.
Gay Elvis.
His fucking sleep paralysis demon.
"NOPE,
NOPE!
FUCK THAT FOOD!
FUCK THAT!"
Milo ran like his life depended on it, which it did, because if Gay Elvis caught him, oh god no...
Reaching his room, he slammed the door shut gently, locking it and pushing a rather heavy chair against the door.
"Fuck, fuck fuck..." He started to panic, tears falling involuntarily.
Milo knelt, eyes blurry with his tears. "#blamegrian please don't let me die to Gay Elvis tonight" Milo begged, hands clasped tight in a white-knuckled grip as he squeezed his eyes shut tightly, praying.
"I have auditions on Saturday and I need to be alive for that"
DING! A notification trilled on his phone. It was the local church aunt, saying "Sending thoughts and prayers" with fake sincerity.
Suddenly, a shadow on their window sill moved.
Not Gay Elvis, please not Gay Elvis. Milo thought.
They turned to see their cat on the window sill. "Oh thank #blamegrian." They checked their supplies. "Gummy worms and a kitkat. Should be good till morning."
~~~