Demon Hamster Moves Into Barbie's House

Sometimes I wonder about my luck with pets.

When I was a little girl, I had the same pet that most young girls have: a hamster. In fact, I had several hamsters. Well, two, but that counts as several to me. The first of these little guys was named Key-key (I have no idea where the hell that came from), and he was white with beady red eyes. Or maybe that's what I remember because that thing was the devil incarnate.

One morning I awoke in my room, and looked to the left where my beloved devil-hamster's cage was. It was more like one of those plastic boxes you put hermit crabs in with a vented top and a water thing attached to it. For some reason, the bottom of the cage was wet, and upon further examination of the cage, I found that the water bottle's spout had been pulled off.

And the other weird thing? Key-key was nowhere to be found.

I jumped out of bed, which really is impressive because I am so not a morning person. (I want to point out that I'm ironically writing this at 7:47 in the morning while at work, and I've been here for two hours already.) After tearing the left side of my room apart for fifteen minutes frantically searching, I turned to go to the other side of the room and continue. I feel that at this time, it is important to mention that I had this huge plastic dollhouse at the foot of my bed that I'd play with my Barbies in.

It looked something like that, except that is like a huge-ass version where kids actually play in it cause they can fit. And mine wasn't like that.

And guess where Key-key was?

On the second floor, staring out at me with his little red eyes of hateful vengeance for being locked in a cage. In retrospect, I can totally see how he'd hate my guts. But I didn't want him to get eaten by the vacuum cleaner, and I was 5. So honestly, I didn't think I was the most inhumane person in the world. But apparently Key-key did. When I tried to pick the little sucker up and put him back in his cage of doom (not even thinking about the fact that he could just escape again), he BIT me.

And this is when "Charlie Bit Me" plays in my head, except it was Key-key the demon hamster. My finger bled for a while, but I just got some toilet paper and wrapped it up so that it would stop bleeding. I was a very resourceful 5-year-old.

My mother swears it was a dream, but I know better. That, and I did still have a cut on my finger from him biting me... TAKE THAT.