What started out as a quiet evening at home last fall turned into a nightmare when Orianah Fast discovered an intruder in her Grand Forks, N.D., apartment.
She heard noises from her bedroom. Her two cats were hissing and running around, she said.
"It sounded like they were pulling pages from a comic book and jumping from wall to wall," she said. When she investigated, the cats had knocked a bed pillow to the floor. One cat just stared at the pillow. Fast picked it up and found a coiled "ball python," about 4 to 6 feet long.
"I jumped up, screaming at the top of my lungs and crying," she said. "I wasn't able to control my emotions."
She ran for help, pounding on neighbors' doors. Eventually, a man answered and came to her aid. He scooped the snake into a plastic bag and told Fast it was probably sleeping.
Like many Americans, Fast has a phobia that she can't necessarily understand but that is nonetheless real. Whether it's snakes or heights or an uneasy feeling when the elevator door closes, phobias can range from mildly embarrassing to completely debilitating.
Fast later learned that the snake, which belonged to her next-door neighbor, had escaped its cage and slithered through a heating vent system. Even though it was removed from her apartment, Fast was unable to sleep there for the next three nights.
"I was beyond creeped out," she said. "I just couldn't calm down. I just didn't want to be there."