The Spanish T-Rex Incident

Four fifteen aye em. That's when it happened. I'll never forget that moment for as long as I live. Sure, to anyone else, it may not seem like such a big deal – after all... I survived. And that's something to be happy about. But that's ever so rarely enough. When all your dreams, all your memories, all your – when everything drags you back to that one moment, and cold sweats wake you in the middle of the night, bringing you back to that exact second... well nothing can ever really help you get past that moment, can it?

You see, I had gone to bed early this night. After all, I'd need to awaken at five in the morning to catch my plane out of Europe. So when I was first roused from my slumber at midnight thirty I thought nothing of it. People would be coming and going all night. I'd even conditioned my body to wake me at specific intervals so as I could check on the time, ensuring that I didn't sleep late, causing all sorts of problems for the near future.

But then it happened – something I could not have ever been ready for – something I could not have prepared for. Four fifteen: the door slams open! They enter en mass! Three of them, each stalking their prey, slamming over tables, causing the structural supports of the bed to shudder and shake. Stay still. Stay still and they can't see you. They can't see you, they can't hurt you.

Eyes tightly shut, I tried to ride out the wave of commotion, fright, and terror. Hot breath on my face. I could feel the warm spears from oversized nostrils force their way against my forehead, causing whatever hair wasn't slicked down with droplets of fear inspired sweat, to blow not-gently-enough.

Eyes crack open, just a touch – and there it is! The Spanish Tyrannosaurus, eyes no more than two inches from my own. It lets out a terrible roar! “He's asleep!”

“Shut up! Gawd! Be quiet!”

More slamming as the beasts try and make their way around an environment, made unfamiliar by the remnants of cheap wine and mixed shots still playing heavy in the air.

“This is my home! I can do what I want!” The final cry in English! Instantly they switch over to Spanish, bumbling about, causing the floor to rock, the beds to shudder, the walls to quake! Once more I feel the warm breath on my face, perhaps a final check. But this time I keep my eyelids pressed together. Fear has kept me in line.

The telltale sound of clothing shifting, and falling to the floor. Blankets pulled down. Blankets pulled up. Cries in the dark! Lights switched off. And at four thirty six the incident has ended. Peace has returned to the world. Save for the fear in my heart, of seeing the beast so close to myself. The terrible – terrible – beast.