Opening a small trapdoor, crouched on my knees pulling a lock, I yearned to know what was inside. I’ve seen Coraline, but I don’t have a dysfunctional family so I’m not worried about being preyed on by a psychotic spider lady.

Tugging the lock mechanism until it popped off, the small wooden door creaked open. There wasn’t an ounce of light inside, and call me a cat, but curiosity got the best of me.

Stepping down a ladder into an unknown part of what I assumed was a basement, I stepped with my hands in front of me until I found another door. It only made sense it went through to the other hallway in my new home, but when I opened it up it was the door I had originally opened.

After that, I tested the odds and went back in. After that I couldn’t get out again, and even the police investigating my missing persons report couldn’t hear my screams for help. Curiosity killed this cat.