How to Hide

The high-pitched shriek of the alarm rang throughout the house. My pen slipped, leaving a large blot on my essay for English class. Storm, my pet husky, bared his teeth and streaked down the hallway.

Monica, a foreign exchange student from England who was staying at my family’s house, raced into my room. Her blonde hair was ruffled, giving her a wild, eccentric appearance.

“Oi! What’s happening?!” she whispered frantically.

“I don’t know,” I replied, fidgeting with a strand of my hair. “I think that there are people inside the house!”

A horrified countenance froze on Monica’s face. “Where should we hide?” she asked.

“In my closet. There’s a hidden compartment.” I grabbed my cell phone and stuck it in my back pocket.

We raced into my small but tidy closet, fear overflowing within us. I put my hands on the cream-colored wall next to my sweaters and pressed forcefully. A metallic click sounded within the tiny room, and part of the wall lifted up to expose a nook that was big enough to fit two or three people. Monica climbed in first, and then I followed her.

Once we were inside, I slammed my fist against a red button that was on the ceiling of the compartment. The entrance to the nook closed, but a centimeter-large crack had been poked into the bottom of it for air to come in. Darkness cloaked us, and we were left to wait out the intruders.

“Call 999!” Monica panted. When I stared at her- or, what I could see of her-, she immediately amended her mistake. “I mean 911!”

I yanked my cell phone out of my pocket, but it was nearly impossible to see in the pitch-black of the compartment. Nervously, I pressed a button. Nothing happened. I pressed it again, harder and longer this time.

Red filled my phone screen. A message typed in white, popped up. System update. Do not turn off phone. This may take up to ten minutes to complete.

I groaned quietly in frustration. “Monica? Do you have your phone?”

“Yes.”

“Can I use it? My phone’s acting up.”

The sound of rustling fabric ensued. “Sure. The code is 8813.” A cold, large metal object with plastic casing was placed into my hand.

I pressed a button at the top, praying that I didn’t restart Monica’s phone too. A pink, sparkly screen with silver hearts lit up on the phone, and I exhaled in relief.

I typed in the passcode, unlocking Monica’s phone. I quickly dialed 911 and waited as the phone buzzed.

“Please, please, please,” I heard Monica whisper.

“911, what’s your emergency?” a man on the other line said.

“There’s someone in my house,” I panted anxiously.

“Miss, slow down,” the man ordered. “Where are the intruders?”

“I don’t know! I heard the alarm go off, so I ran and hid!”

“What is your name?”

“Rebeka. Rebeka Chancey.”

“Is there anyone else in the house with you?”

“My mom and a foreign exchange student from England.”

“OK. What is your location?”

“I don’t know,” I replied, embarrassed. “We just moved here a month ago.”

“Do you have a tracker on your phone?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. We’ll send out a search for any active cell phones in the area. Please don’t hang up.”

My hands were shaking. “OK. I’ll try.”

The sound of glass breaking echoed throughout the compartment. Something heavy struck a wall close to Monica and I’s hiding spot.

Monica inhaled sharply, and I quickly muted the sound on her phone. Sawdust drifted into my nose and mouth, and the smell filled my nasal passages.

Footsteps clunked into the closet.

“You find anythin’?” a man asked, and I felt my heart jump into my throat.

“No, nothing that valuable,” a woman’s voice said. “Just some clothes and a beaded necklace. Whoever lives here probably got that from a cheap craft store. I thought you said that there was some stuff that was worth something here!”

“Calm down, Kenna. They probably hid some money or jewels around here… somewhere.”

The sound of leather striking skin shot through the air. “Don’t ever tell me to calm down, or next time my hand will turn into a wasp nest. That would hurt, right, Ian?” the woman growled.

“S-sorry, Kenna,” Ian stuttered.

Kenna sighed aggressively and started pounding her fists on the walls. “Maybe they have some sort of a secret compartment where they stash their valuables. That’s usually the second most popular option, after putting it in a bank.”

Oh no. I swiftly unmuted Monica’s phone and whisper-screamed, “Help! They’re here!”

“OK. We’ve located a current phone call on Cobbett Curdle Road. Is that your street?” the man on 911 asked calmly.

“Yes.”

The man typed something, the keys clacking as he filled in the information. “OK. We’ll be at your house shortly.”

“Thank you! Please hurry!” I sighed, then hung up the phone. I glanced at Monica. “911 will be here soon,” I reassured her. “Don’t worry.” Monica nodded but fidgeted with the edge of her white blouse. I saw her- wait.

I saw her.

I whirled around and saw a metal crowbar sticking out of the wall of the compartment, the hole just above my head. Light shone through the large hole.

“Give it another blow! There’s definitely something in there!” Kenna hollered. Two blows landed next to the original hole and ripped through the wall. “Open it up, Ian! Now! I can hear sirens.”

Ian’s face appeared in the three holes. He smiled, his mouth revealing his horrible crooked teeth.

“Hey Kenna,” he bellowed. “I found some girls in here!”

“Well, get them!”

Ian plunged his gloved hands into the holes and ripped the wall open. He grabbed my arm and pulled me out. Kenna chucked the broken plaster and wood over my head, then roughly snatched Monica.

“Who are you?” Kenna demanded, glaring at me.

“Rebeka Chancey,” I replied, my lip trembling.

Kenna kicked me in the stomach. I doubled over, pain coursing through my blood, wheezing.

Monica punched Kenna in the face. “Let. Go. Of. Us,” she snarled, but the woman held even tighter. Blood poured out of the woman’s delicate nose. I slammed my elbow into Ian’s chest and kicked his legs. Ian replied by twisting my arm until I heard a sharp, wet crack.

“Monica!” I shouted, my vision blurry from pain. “Run!”

A siren blared, and I exhaled in relief. “911’s here!” Monica smiled.

I carefully stood up and sprinted, Monica leading, towards the door. We opened it and collapsed onto the front lawn.

A police officer ran into the house, while a paramedic approached us and said, “Come with me.”

He slowly wrapped my broken arm with a bandage and set it in a sling.

“My mom! She’s still in there!” I yelped, hyperventilating.

The paramedic replied, “Officer Shannon just went in there. She’ll be out with the criminals and your mom shortly.”

I smiled, my hands shaking. “Thank you.”

My mom ran out of the house and wrapped her arms around me. “Rebeka!” she cried. “I’m so, so glad you’re alright.”

A female officer with blonde hair was roughly dragging Kenna and Ian across the front lawn. “Get in the car,” Officer Shannon ordered. The two handcuffed criminals glared at me and stumbled into the small police car. Officer Shannon walked over to me. “Thank you, Miss Chancey. We’ve been looking for these criminals for quite a while. You’ve done the department a great favor.”

I smiled, and at last, peace settled into my mind. Kenna and Ian were in custody, and the house was safe. We were alright. And for that, I was grateful.