One of the perks of working the night shift at my job is taking home any leftovers you find whether they be food, decorations, you name it. Some organization had a party the night of the Superbowl and left behind a giant “R” balloon which was quickly claimed as my own when I entered to clean up their room.
I brought it back to my dorm room and proudly displayed the enormous balloon on my desk. R for Rutgers. R for Rocky.
Before going to bed, my roommate pointed out how in the pitch black, the balloon looked kind of scary. He was right. I agreed that there was something unusually creepy about it… but it’s just a balloon. What could we have done anyway? Pop it?
Well, I wish we did.
My roommate and I were suddenly jerked awake at 5 AM to a horrific chopping sound. We heard bangs and booms as the two of us tried to peel open our eyes. What was happening? It was the R balloon! It was whipping around the room! Caught in the fan?
The blades of the fan were viciously pulling it from one side of the room to the other knocking down anything in its path.
As if a superhero, I felt myself lunging out of bed leaping for the balloon trying to capture it in the dark. I knew if I turned on the lights, we would have been blinded. If I turned off the fan using the switch, well, that would have been too logical. I continued to jump.
After much swinging of my arms and laughs coming from my roommate, the balloon was caught and immediately put to rest. That demonic balloon almost gave the two of us a heart attack!
We should have expected this.
We knew something was terribly dark about that balloon.