The squirrels here are...different

Day 27-

They were at it again, except this time it was worse. I could hear their cries above me as wood was carelessly thrown about. The cries grew louder, at first sounding like the laughter of children. What child would brave the icy frost of six thirty mornings and find humor in it? No, it wasn’t children. The yik-whooos grew louder and more violent; the scratching more prevalent until I was sure the only barrier between me and them would be breached. The old siding of this house was already a victim of the elements. I hid my head under the blanket, fully knowing that no paltry piece of fabric would save me from their needle intent. And then it stopped.

The day progressed as normal. I was running low on provisions and the daylight seems to tuck them away, so I left for the store. I foolishly lost my keys and had to leave the fortress unguarded. I can only hope that they did not discover this. I spied them peering at me from the branches. I quickened my pace and returned safely home. 

            2:47- I searched for ways to prepare the evening meal when the scratching begins again. Evil clawing- the sound of Velcro being violently ripped from fine silk. This time the creature was wheezing. Was it a plague they intended to spread? Did they send a sick scout in their stead to spy on me? Oh, God, they’re after me.