It’s definitely out to get me. My mattress, that is. I’m sure it swallowed the person before me. Mattresses are like anacondas, you know. Once they eat, it takes a long while before they need to again. They digest things ever so slowly, and hardly move while they do.
That’s how I know it’s after me. It’s been moving. Rumbling. Seeming remarkably empty. I’ve been waiting for the day that it just snaps me up. I wonder what they did with the last girl’s stuff. Mine will be a pain to move, if it gets me.
Sure, they might seem all innocent. They’re great at luring you into a false sense of security. But even the safe ones still need to eat. Those socks that go missing? And the way the blankets seem to gradually disappear? That’s no accident.