And because there are four great Danes in the house and my Mum, I bit back the nausea, thought that it wouldn't be best if I collapsed in fear and instead decided it would be best to test the minor Theory Aimee and I came up with yesterday.
So, I glared at him and focussed all my energy on believing him to not be real.
Yeah, no, that doesn't work. It just pisses him off, he cocked his head about...90 degrees to the right? An impossible angle for something with the average amount of vertebrae in his neck, but there's nothing average about him is there?
So, after feeling seriously sick at that sight, I just started singing loudly to myself so I had a tether to sanity and walked closer to the window and closed the curtains.
I've still got a Theory to test concerning the Operator Symbol and, if I'm perfectly honest, the fact that I've already come to terms with my mortality doesn't even dampen the absolute fucking terror I'm feeling at knowing I'm going to have to pull this off.
I may not be Running to save my Mother, but I'm not getting her involved in some of my more risky Theories.
He hasn't killed us yet and I shall make sure he doesn't in the future.
He underestimates us and we shall fuck him up.
Die in a fire.