The Bat
Hello. I’m a longtime resident of the town, with a family history here that goes back generations. My great-great-great-grandfather was the first to settle here, and ever since, there’s been a member of my family living in Wooster. I am also a bat.
When I was young, I grew up in the family home in the attic of Compton Hall. But eventually, it came time for me to spread my wings and find a house of my own. I thought I’d finally found a place downtown, but then the recession hit and I was forced to move back home. It was a rough time. A cousin was found rabid, and I lost my mother to white nose syndrome. Eventually, after a few years, I finally found my footing and moved across campus to Hider House. That’s when the trouble began.
It was early one morning and I was just minding my business, only to be startled awake by one of my neighbors screaming after discovering me. Now, I tried my best to stay out of the way, to not make a mess and to be a good neighbor so I was concerned by her visceral reaction. When I attempted to ask her what was wrong, she continued screaming before grabbing a tennis racket. I flew out of the way, trying to calmly talk through the situation, but all my attempts were greeted with violence. Eventually, she disappeared, and I thought it was finally over and this would be the sort of moment we’d later laugh about, only for her to return with authorities. I tried to explain to them that I was the victim of assault, but they were there for me! Accusing me of unlawfully living in the house where my great-grandmother was raised! The gall!
I was driven out into the streets, just as I was finally starting to recover from the recession. I decided I couldn’t move back home again, and found a new place in Holden Hall. It wasn’t as cozy as my previous apartment but at least it was a roof over my head. But again, a neighbor freaked out and called security, who once again drove me out onto the streets. This has now happened to me no less then seven times, and it’s become very clear to me that I’m the victim of some sort of animal profiling. All I’m trying to do is find some shelter and you people keep driving me out because of your own redundant misconceptions of my species. You view me like some bloodsucking monster when all I do is eat insects.
I understand that our species hasn’t always had the easiest of histories, what with mine touching upon your primal fears and you guys rapidly depleting the world’s resources and destroying my natural habitats, but no relationship is perfect. Aren’t I deserving of your respect? If you cut me, will I not bleed? If you tickle me, will I not laugh? If you poison me, will I not die? If you wrong me, won’t I try to get revenge? I may be Myotis lucifugus instead of Homo sapiens but I deserve a home just the same as you.