One night in November, I was in bed, and I screamed as something fluffy brushed across my feet. And my mom came into my room, and asked me what was wrong, and I told her that there was something in my bedroom.
"Come to your door," she said. And I did. Until she told me to stop. So I did. And she asked me where it was, and I told her that it was behind my desk chair. And my mom said, "I think it's a possum." It didn't look like how I imagined a possum. It looked more like a huge mouse. It was cute, but dangerous. It was all sniffy. I left my room.
"It's a possum!" I cried.
"Where?" Dad asked.
"In my room." I said. I went to the rocking chair, and my dad needed his chair. I tried to turn left, but he stopped me by dragging me away into my parents ' room. I ended up crying on the bed. Dad planned on taking the possum to work with him.
