Once upon a time while my husband was out of town, it was late at night and I found myself all alone. Elias was comfortably tucked in his bed and most of the lights in the house were off.
I was getting ready for bed and quickly found myself on the phone with Mark to say goodnight. As I was walking toward bed, something stopped me in my tracks. A crash. A bang. A thump. My eyes grew wide, and I stood motionless. Neither Mark nor I said a word over the phone.
Paralyzed with fear, I gulped. Suddenly I felt the need to whisper “ummm.. Mark…um…Mark someone is….” I couldn’t finish because my imagination had already run wild. I just knew that someone was downstairs; someone who wanted to scare me and someone who would wait until I was off of the phone to spring out at me.
“Mark…there is something…Something is down stairs!” I stated in a panicked whisper. Somehow my calm, cool, and collected husband proceeded to talk me into walking around the house to check it out. I still don’t know how he convinced me to move muscle.
In that moment, I so wanted a baseball bat. I wanted a machete, or even a broom stick. I decided right then and there that whoever was in my house was going down. In reality I probably would have passed out the second I saw anyone, but for now I was going to take them out, even if I had to throw my cell phone at them. I know… what a good strategy. I’ll have to remember that for next time.
Creeping down the stairs, I imagined screaming at the top of my lungs when I saw the intruder because of course that would help me stay safe. I was anxious to practice Kung Fu moves that I didn’t even know on anything I saw, even if it was the neighbor’s cat. I visualized the beady eyes that would stare at me, and as I marched down each step I was praying for a supernatural way to perform a round house kick to the face.
I poked my head around the corner of the stairs to find a dark room. In my mind, I pictured glowing eyes that would be the only thing lighting the room. I imagined a person dressed in all black. And by the time I thought that men with automatic weapons would be in my living room, I realized I had watched too many movies.
As I stepping into my living room nothing was out of place. As I went through the house every room was empty. Every piece of furniture was in its spot and every picture was still on the wall. Of course you may agree with Mark, who thought I was making it up or “just hearing things” but I knew I wasn’t. And the fact that nothing was out of place freaked me out even more.
I know I am probably supposed to be a responsible, hold-it-together kind of mom, but I panicked. Nearly sprinting to my bed, I felt like a child as I hid under my covers. I wished for protection. I longed for someone to tell me it was alright, but unfortunately it was only little ol’ me.
At one point, I just wanted a paint ball gun beside my bed. That way I wouldn’t actually hurt anyone, but when the intruder saw the red paint all over his pant leg he would think I had gotten him. I wanted a flash light, because then I could shine it right in the intruder’s eyes and make a fast dash out of the house. I was practically putting 911 into my speed dial when I had to tell myself to quit acting like a baby and go to bed. And that is exactly what I did. I am happy to report, I lived through that night and no harm befell me.