The Great Purge of 2021 A Tale of Unfortunate Events

This is what I looked like cleaning my home today.

I awoke to something that wasn’t paranormal but was definitely supernatural. The scene which unfolded could have been on a movie set. Nothing like that should happen in real life. I say that knowing what ungodly things I have seen after working countless years as a hotel maid. Today it was in my home, in my own rooms, a real-life horror scene spewed from the bowels of Hell.

I awoke from a pleasant dream into a nightmare. How can one person expel so much and still live? Is she a zombie now? I am the mother of a zombie now? How in blue blazes does one never once make it to the porcelain throne. Not much was spared in this nightmarish scene. Bodily fluids were covering so many things. So many things that are not easy to clean.

Torn between burning it all and praying for a Disney-type cleaning crew. If I sing will the birds come to help me. Fairy Godmother, are you there? Where is that Harry Potter wand when I need it? Can this be fixed? I took a breath, not a deep one, I opened a window, fresh air, please. Check on the nonhuman that could have done this. Hello, humanoid of my daughter, are you okay? A series of grumble grumbles and irritation, yep she’s good.

I prepared myself for the worst, seeking out old clothes I could ruin with cleaners. Bleach is about to happen anywhere it can. Shoes that have seen better days, how deep will I have to wade in this unholiness. I put on a mask, honestly, it wasn’t even for germs. I put on some gloves. I brainstormed a plan. Okay, I get in there I pour Comit cleaner on the spots to help soak and seal until I can get back to it. Then I make a run for it as if my life depended upon the swiftness of this next maneuver. I have a clear shot and I’m going to take it.

I have bags and towels that were designated as purely cleaning rags a while ago. I have a hamper. I’m psyched up ready to go. I run in throw the towels upon as much Comit soaked carpet I can. I begin wiping up as much as possible then I toss them in the trash bags, they were rough cleaning rags and I don’t need them that bad. I go in pouring Tide all upon the most grizzly parts of the carpet, grab a bucket and a long-handled scrub brush. I have a bucket with hot water and I pour it upon the massacre. I scrub creating a thick blanket of Tide. Thank you God for Tide.

I gather all destroyed items, clothes, blankets, shoes every porous washable item and I fill a clothes basket. My couch has been hit, sweet mother of the lord. Thankfully the cover can be removed. Items are placed in the basket. I proceed to spend around an hour shampooing the carpet. I am grateful I have a shampooer. Why was carpet invented, why do we still use it? After numerous passes to both scrub and remove the bucket of water previously thrown onto the floor it is no longer offensive to live here, at least the living room.

You see, I discovered previously with my bare feet upon entering the bathroom for my morning visit to tinkle town, that my rug was squishy that is the nicest description I have. So, I remove the rug and wash it along with the unfortunate items caught in the crossfire of the great purge of 2021. I wiped up the floor but still had to return after dealing with the main event to bleach the sins away from the tile. Thank God for Bleach. Several hours from start to finish I have contained the outbreak and patient zero. My home has been salvaged. This was just a recuperation operation the regular cleaning that still needs to be done must wait until tomorrow when I have regained my strength and motivation. May the Heaven’s smile down upon me and may it just be throw on some tunes and have a cleaning party and not the rescue mission of today.

No worries, it has risen and asked for food and thankfully not the blood of her enemies.

Published by izzysconfessions

I was born and raised in the smallest of towns in Southwest Virginia. A town that is extraordinarily active, yet a town that is like it's very own little mini Bible belt. My dad was Baptist, my mom pentecostal, and I'm paranormal. I would venture to say it is somewhat of a family trait. One that is met with equal acceptance and curiosity as much as it is met with skepticism. Individually and collectively so much has been experienced and witnessed at times to such a degree that one might wonder how on earth there is room for doubt. I dont have all the answers, I do not have it all figured out. Im as human as everyone else relying heavily many mornings on a lot of coffee and a little Jesus. In fact, I can't decide what I want for dinner most days. One constant is I cannot go a single day without chocolate. Pour a cup of coffee, or a little tea and whiskey and join me in my confessions of a haunted freak.

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