For months, strange things happened in my apartment—lights flicking on, books moved, muddy footprints on the floor.
I feared an intruder, even called the police. But there was no sign of forced entry. It all came to light when an officer asked, “Have you checked on your cat?” My mischievous feline, known for swatting switches and dragging shoes, was the true culprit. What felt like a chilling thriller turned out to be my pet’s nightly antics—a funny reminder of how our minds play tricks on us in the dark.
