I hate a bursting bladder at night, especially in the middle of my sleep. It’s like having to get a new toilet paper roll in the middle of taking a nice, relaxing dump. The urge to not get up is so strong that my mind tries to trick the bladder into believing that the leak has been taken in my dream. Although the bladder is lulled into believing that it indeed has emptied its liquidy contents, it quickly realizes that it has been cheated and pushes harder than ever, ultimately achieving its goal of getting me out of the warm comforts of my blanket, making me put on my cold rubber slippers, turn on the bright, blinding lights in the bathroom, do the needful and then as a final jolt - to completely ruin my sleep - wash my hands in the freezing water that seems to achieve a whole new level of iciness during the night. 

I walk back to my room half-rubbing my eyes and half-looking where I am going, when a suspicious looking object stops my heart beat. Now, I look fully awake, frozen in my steps, unable to scream or move my limbs. Nights always scare me. Things look so much different in the dark. Even people you are laying next to, who’ve slept next to you your entire life. Their faces look so much scarier. The alien object stays where it is. I assume it is as scared as I am. It is on the knob of the door, right at the entrance to the kitchen. My room is across the bathroom. I make my way around the table that sits in the middle of the kitchen and gain a fair distance between me and the object.

I stare at it for while. It follows my gaze. From the side where I am looking at it, it looks like a giant bat hanging upside down from the knob. Its eyes gleam menacingly. Its life-size wings, wet. It flaps them when the breeze comes in through the netted window. I assume it’s a vampire bat, waiting to pounce on me and leave its mark. And then I will turn into a Dracula as well and will suck women’s necks for fun. I roll a tissue paper into a ball and aim at it carefully. It doesn’t flinch. I throw another one. I am scared that it will fly around with no way out and get panicky. I know bats could do serious damage when cornered. I can’t understand how it came in when all the doors and windows are closed. One of my housemates would have opened one; this thing would have come in and would have hidden somewhere, deciding to come out when the entire conundrum died.

I slowly walk towards my room. The kitchen is at an elevation and I have to climb down two steps to reach my room. I do so as discreetly as possible. The sinister monster stars at my doings, watching over me like a school principal. I knock at the Asian’s room next to mine. He comes out sleepily and jumps back in shock when I show him the bat. His eyes widen as much as they could.

“Unh, whath will yoo doo,” he whispers. His breath smells of something that I can't figure, but i know I don't like it.

I look at him and say, “Why me dude? Why don’t you do something?”

“Noooo,” he said, stretching the word like I said something totally absurd.

He takes a step towards the object, and then quickly a step back into his room and shuts his door. I keep staring at his closed door before mouthing some really obscene profanities which I am sure he understood, because he mumbled something back in Chinese. I turn towards the bat, ready to scream my ass off at its slightest movement.          

I wave a broom stick at it. The stupid stubborn thing does not budge. I walk back into the kitchen area, over to the faucet and splash some water at it, prepared to duck under the huge wooden table if the need arise. I get tired and tip toe back into my room, leaving the bat to be dealt with in the morning. I hear it banging against the windows. I finally go to sleep.

In the morning the bat comes back to my mind. I have to get out of the room to make myself coffee. But I wonder why I didn’t hear any shrieks from my other housemates. I open my door ever so carefully and peer through the crack. I step out. It is still there, hanging on to the knob. Still upside down. I walk towards it, pull it down and throw it aside. The umbrella falls lifelessly, unwrapped, spreading itself like a lotus. Lots of new words come to my mind, but I simply nod at my stupidity and go about my day.