were crackers, but as she was getting dressed for school she noticed a small little tan 'O' laying on the floor next to her nightstand. It was a cheerio. She picked it up and looked at it for a moment, its wholesome oaty contours seeming perfectly harmless. She threw it away, assuming that her bratty older sister was responsible. Little did she know that it was an omen of the pure mind bending horror which was soon to follow. That weekend her mother went shopping.
She had gotten in the habit of doing all the grocery shopping for the month at once, so the kitchen was packed full of bags and boxes as the girls went about putting things away. Lindsay was disappointed when she noticed that the only cereal her mother had gotten was Cheerios. It was always Cheerios. Four economy-sized boxes worth, no less. Lindsay had never liked Cheerios, even though her sister seemed to love them. They were too plain. Too boring, She thrust the boxes carelessly up onto the shelf above the refrigerator and went searching through the other bags to see if her mother had gotten anything that was actually edible. Later that night she was tossing and turning in bed, her stomach full of slightly too much Butterfinger ice cream. The house was silent. Everyone else was in bed. Or should have been. Lindsay had almost dozed off when a soft, dry rustling sound brought her back to wakefulness. At first she thought it was the cat scratching at her door, but as she sat up she realized it was coming from somewhere inside the room. A twinge of fear shivered through her body. They'd never had rats or mice in the house before. Was it a bug?
Continue?