Most mornings start the same way—wake up, grab breakfast, get ready, and head out the door with a mental to-do list. Mine began like that, ordinary and uneventful, until I stepped outside and froze in my driveway.
It was early, quiet, the neighborhood still half-asleep. I locked the door, slung my bag over my shoulder, and walked toward my car. That’s when I noticed something unusual beneath it. At first, I thought it was a crumpled bag or rag, something harmless left by the wind. But then—it moved.
My heart raced. Maybe a cat? Maybe a rat? I squinted, and that’s when the eyes caught me—reflecting light, intense, alive. Fear froze me as I bent down to look closer.
What I saw made me scream. It wasn’t a cat or a rat. It was a crocodile.
Not enormous, but large enough to terrify me. Its leathery body pressed against the concrete, tail twitching, eyes unblinking and cold. I stood frozen, my mind racing: How did it get here? Was it dangerous? Could it lunge at me?
Finally, trembling, I grabbed my phone and called emergency services. “There’s… a crocodile. Under my car. Right now. I don’t know what to do!” I stammered.
The minutes crawled as I kept my distance, staring at the reptile. My imagination ran wild—what if it darted out or attacked? Then, finally, the sound of sirens broke the tension. A team of specialists arrived, calm and professional, carrying heavy-duty equipment.
Within minutes, the crocodile was secured, placed into a container, and removed safely. Relief washed over me, leaving me dizzy and shaking.
But the story wasn’t over…
