Could be a true story

The preface to this story is that it is based on my current life. I am in the middle of a court case and live in fear and paranoia every day. I am also a full time family caregiver. I have a security camera set by the front door which I cannot figure out how to shut the night alarm off on. Thank god it is not mounted, otherwise the alarm would go off every time I leave the house after dark. My paranoia has always been present, this court case has amplified it by tenfold. This story could very well happen and not only to me. Please be safe.

The alarm is blasting. There is someone in the house. My first thought as I tug on a pair of socks I keep by my bed just in case. He is in the house. My second thought as I grab the tiny switch blade I have under my pillow along with my flashlight. I would hate to carry pepper spray and not be able to use it in time. So I chose a knife, as if that is any quicker. I remain still as a stone at the top of the stairs. Knowing I need to go down to reassure Nan that everything is OK and clear the house. Yet I truly wanted to crawl back into bed and pretend that I could not hear the ear piercing screech that had not shut off. Which was good, if it had then I would have known he had shut the camera off. I crept down the carpeted stairs in silence. Greeted by my little puppy, I went over to Nan and assured her that I was up and headed to shut the alarm off. Me and the puppy quietly walked over to the curtain separating the living room and kitchen. I listened. I strained to hear any kind of noise. With the alarm still going, I could not decipher any other sounds emanating from the pitch black kitchen. All I could see through the curtain was the spotlight of the camera. It illuminated the kitchen door and window, not revealing any suspicious figure or movement. I pulled out the flashlight from my pocket, not wanting to blast whoever was in here with the kitchen overhead light. He may not know I am up yet, and I'd like to keep it that way as long as possible. My fourth thought as I placed my hand on the curtain. With a puppy in tow, I peeled the curtain to one side and we stalked out into the kitchen. One small groaning step at a time. Even though the alarm was still blaring, the house seemed so quiet. I reached the camera after what felt like eons and held the power button to shut it off. I stood, and I listened. For anything. For everything. Every little moan of the furnace and every skitter of the mice. I heard nothing else. I still had to clear the house, I reminded myself. Moving towards the bathroom, I shined the flashlight in front of me, lighting my way and making visible any possible foes in front of me. Pushing the door back and going to check the laundry room. Which revealed nothing but more intense fear settling in the bottom of my chest like a dumbell in each of my lungs. Creating a struggle to pull in and push air out of my trembling body. We pressed on into the master bedroom. Under the bed, in the closets, behind the door. The regular three. I checked everywhere, still finding nothing. A little nose started sniffling the ground, seeming to catch and hunt down an unfamiliar scent. She started to wander out of the bedroom and I followed. This dog had my complete trust after 9 years of friendship. She may be small but she is mighty. We both pad on back through to the dark living room. The only light in the house being my flashlight that bobbed as I walked. My feet were shaking with each step. As we inched closer to the front room, my anxiety heightened. This was the last room he could be hiding in. The weight in my chest felt heavier and my footsteps got smaller. Finally we reached the blue-checked curtain that matched the one leading into the kitchen. My light shone through the curtain, shedding light on a shadowy figure lying in wait. I internally gasped and held my breath as I pushed the curtain back in one sweeping motion. It was a pile of blankets with a pillow on top. I had put them there earlier that day and had forgotten. Just as I was starting to put the curtain back and laugh at how silly I had been to get so worked up; a hand grabbed my face from behind.

I need to write some more words to submit my story. I apologize to write another blurb at the bottom. I wanted to use this space to talk about mental health and sleep. Both of these are very important to living a healthy life. I am getting neither good sleep nor good mental self help these days. That is both from my court case and my caregiving position. This story is my hypothetical nightmare that I play out in slightly different ways every single night, at least once. Not including my actual nightmares. This story has been edited through twice after writing it all down. Written very late at night, and I have already shut off the camera for tonight. Writing this story makes me almost want to turn it back on, but I know that I won't. Call it playing with fire, call it laziness. I am too comfortable in bed and too scared. I hope I can sleep tonight. I hope I do not scare anyone too much with my story. I hope someone hears me if I scream. Thank you for reading this far. I hope this is enough words for now. Thank you all for reading my submission.