Boy versus Couch

It was  Saturday, March 20, 2010. I was at home watching my favorite horror movie on my favorite couch. The couch was chocolate brown, covered with a feathered pattern and a carpet-like back. Scared, I ran my hand against the back of the couch leaving a dark tan mark on the brown fabric. My show was about over when out of nowhere I heard several screams. I ran to the window and looked outside. Three people were running down my street. There behind them was a sky blue couch with a mouth the size of a grave stone and teeth the size of staplers. I slowly turned around and noticed that the couch I had just been laying on was now gone. I opened my bedroom door, heading for my shotgun. The house was extremely quiet and all that could be heard was my racing heart. I took my first step into the hall, looked left than right. I heard a slam in the kitchen, “Boom!”

My shotgun went off when I jumped. There was a soft moan. I looked left once more then right. I spotted the couch which had now come alive. Thank goodness it didn’t see me. I aimed the gun when suddenly it turned around and screamed. I shot and missed. “Cr-p,” I said under my breath. I started running as fast as I could out the door. In the street, I noticed most of the house doors and windows were broken. I kept running. Tired, I needed to find a place to sleep. I spotted a furniture store up ahead and laid down on the first thing I saw, a light peach-colored couch. Big mistake. I fell asleep, only to be woken up by a herd of couches. I thought to myself that I was surrounded and it was no use. In one brave move, I started to pull on the couch. It bounced just like a bull. I kicked its sides and rode the couch out of the store, leaping over all the other couches. I had won.