Hello. It's Belinda.
Today is the big day. The final bedtime story from the "slumber party" my roommate hosted on the bottom level.
The English stole his. It's pretty good.
Now it's my turn and I'm a little nervous to tell you the truth. This is not my typical blog. "To put it mildly."
I hope you like reading it.
"Belinda's Bedtime Story"
"Once upon a time there was a human. Let’s call her ‘Betty.’
Betty lived with three rabbits. Their names don’t matter but they were perfectly normal. No ‘hocus pocus.’
No true for Betty though. Because she thought she could understand rabbit language.
And that’s not all. Betty thought she could read rabbit minds.
I know what you’re thinking but I’m just telling a bedtime story.
One day a rabbit walked into the dining room.
Betty was spying on the whole thing from the couch.
Suddenly she yelled ‘Are you walking toward the corner? For the hundredth time, do not dig in that carpet.’
Betty doesn’t know everything.
Maybe the rabbit was ‘getting her steps in.’ For good health.
Or maybe she was on her way to the front door. To wait for a delivery.”
At this point in the story I paused. Because I heard something strange.
Actually, it was what I didn’t hear.
The English and Little Fang were completely silent. No mumbling or giggling from that side of the room.
I assumed they nodded off.
Outside, the flashes and booms had stopped. Seemed like the fireworks were finally over for the night.
Most shocking of all, my roommate wasn't snoring.
“Are you awake Belinda?“
“I just had a weird dream about you.”
I’m trying to finish my Betty story.
“I dreamed you were spreading rumors about me. Telling fibs to Little Fang and the English.”
How did she know I call him the English?
“But I know you wouldn’t make up stories about me. Do you know how I know?”
She was quiet for a long time. I thought she fell back asleep.
Then she said it.
“Because I can read your mind.”
With that, one final crackle and boom exploded somewhere in the neighborhood.
A minute passed. Or maybe an hour passed. It’s hard to say.
All I know is I dozed off.
And when I woke my roommate was sawing logs again.
Ever since, I’ve been trying to figure out what happened that night.
“Option A” is my bedtime story was so good I put myself to sleep. And I dreamed the part about my roommate.
“Option B” is my roommate really can read my mind and understand rabbit language.
Either way, if you’ve read this far, it can only mean one thing.
Whatever ending you choose, you’re part of the story too.
Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select