“Honey! Wake up!” my wife, Ann, is violently shaking me awake. “Wake up!” she’s whispering, but she sounds desperate. I roll over and look at the clock. Just past 3am. It takes me a few minutes to grasp my surroundings. I reach for my glasses on the end table and look over at my wife. She’s barely visible in the moonlight but she looks distraught.
“What’s going on, why are you awake?” I blink furiously and try to wipe the sleep from my eyes. Ann’s eyes are huge with concern; she leans forward to speak into my ear.
“James, there’s someone in the house.” She whispers. My blood runs cold as I quickly glance around the room. I put a finger to my lips, telling her to “shh” and gently start to get out of bed. I grab the bat that I keep behind my dresser and slowly start to walk towards my bedroom door. Adrenaline is coursing through my veins. My heartbeat is so loud that I’m worried that, whoever is in my house, might hear it. I slowly open the bedroom door to peer into the hallway.
That’s when I hear it; its subtle but it’s there, small individual thuds coming from my kitchen, footsteps, followed by soft rustling sounds and indistinct whispering. Someone truly was, in my house. I looked over to my wife who still looked frantic. Her eyes were moving back and forth from me to the door.
“Ann,” I whispered as calmly as I could. “Call 911. Now.” She nodded vigorously and reached for the phone on the night stand. She looked up at me briefly before dialing the number. I put a finger to my lips once more, gripped my fingers tighter around the bat and stepped into the hallway.
It was so dark; I could barely make out the walls of the hallway. I took small, silent steps ‘til I was to the entrance of our living room. The whispering was louder now and I could make out some of what was being said.
“Isn’t this guy supposed to be loaded?” One voice said, sounding annoyed. “Must not have been that good of a life insurance policy if he can’t even afford a decent TV.” The voice mocked. I shrunk down to the floor as one of the flashlights pointed in my direction. “Did you guys hear that?” the irritable voice spoke again.
“No, you’re just paranoid man.” Another voice finally spoke through the dark. Without warning, something crashed to the floor and shattered. I caught my breath in my chest to avoid letting out the scream that had gathered in my lungs.
“What the fuck?!” a third, much deeper voice, whispered fiercely.
“Sorry, man. Didn’t mean to.” The first voice mumbled in frustration. “Just find the damn safe so we can get out of here. This place creeps me out.” My heart felt like it was going to burst from my chest. One thief, I could handle, but there were at least three men in my living room. I focused on calming my breathing before standing up again to retreat to my bedroom. A flashlight swung back in my direction, its beam shining directly into my shoulder blades.
“I thought you said he was out of town!” The third voice boomed, sounding enraged. I immediately started running back towards my bedroom. Once I made it into the room I slammed the door and locked it. I paused for a second to listen. I couldn’t hear anything. No whispering, no footsteps. I shoved my bookcase in front of the door and ducked into the master bathroom, shutting and locking that door as well. That’s when I heard the banging, coming from the other side of the bedroom door. That bookcase would not hold them long.
BANG! BANG!
My breathing was ragged, and my heart was pounding. I started to quietly sob, clinging to the bat that was still in my hands. I could hear indiscriminate voices from the other side of the door. Presumably arguing about what they were going to do to me, once they found me.
“Tell us where the safe is old man! You don’t wanna die too? Do ya? The banging was getting louder. Suddenly I could hear the wailing of police sirens. “Oh fuck! You’re dead old man!” the voice snarled through the door. The pounding got louder, the sound was deafening. I covered my ears for only a few seconds before the room went silent. I heard footsteps retreating down the hall, then some faint shuffling, then nothing.
The police ended up finding the men a few blocks down the street from my house. They had only managed to get ahold of a few valuables. While the other officers were searching for the men that fled, a few stayed behind to make sure that I was ok.
“You aren’t hurt, are you sir? Do we need to take you to a hospital?” I was thoroughly shaken up, but I was otherwise unharmed.
“No, I’m fine.” My hands clumsily gripped a glass of water that I was handed, as the officer rattled off all his routine questions.
“Now sir, you said you’re home alone? Dispatch thought a woman called 911. Is your wife home? We didn’t find anyone else inside.” he motioned towards the ring on my finger. I froze as the glass slid from my hands and crashed to the concrete below. As I looked up at the officer I could feel color draining from my face. How could I have forgotten? I hadn’t even realized until that moment. You see, I wasn’t worried about the break in anymore; the thing is, my wife’s been dead for over a year now. She was killed in a hit and run, last summer, just before our anniversary. “Sir, are you ok?” the officer was staring at me intently.
I jerked my head towards the house, questions were racing through my head. How am I still alive? Was this all a sick joke? Am I dreaming? But the one question that was playing over and over in my head… who called 911?