I was startled by the phone chiming as loud as a church bell. Almost shaking in shock, I picked it up.
“Hello?” I muttered
“Hi Andrew, its dad,” I could barely hear his muffled voice over the piercing noise- an ear-splitting hum of some sort. “I’m just coming back from my out of town meeting and will be home in about fifteen minutes. Have you eaten dinner?” he asked, almost shouting over the telephone.
“No, I was hoping you could feed me” I mumbled disappointedly.
“Okay, I will be there as soon as I…” the phone fell dead; I didn’t think anything of it- all I could do was anxiously sit tight for him.
Returning to my English coursework, I continued to attempt to spark an idea, however, my baggy eyes began to draw shut as I finally realised that I was exhausted. I began to doze off, until something happened that changed my life…
Bang!
My heart pounded. Coming from downstairs, I foolishly took no notice of the thunderous noise. Again, hearing a second crash, I felt petrified. What's wrong? Is something broken? Is it the neighbours? What was it? Or more importantly, who was it? Rustling echoed through the house.
“WHO’S THERE?” I yelled in a terrified tone of voice. No answer. Breathing became extremely heavy, I pinned my ears back, as I listened to bits of broken glass crushing on the wooden floor. I could feel the adrenaline rush to my head.
Heaps of grim consequences flooded my mind as I heard draws bashing open, cutlery hitting the floorboards and then… a chilling silence. What if my possessions are carelessly robbed? What if I awaken in a hospital bed tomorrow, permanently injured? Even worse, what if I don’t wake up tomorrow? It was times like this where things taken for granted were really appreciated.
Starting to panic, I wondered what to do. I had seen plenty of situations like this on TV but I never would have thought it would happen to me…
Automatically, I reached for the cordless telephone and dialled those three precious numbers that constantly re-ran themselves in my head like a broken record- nine nine nine.
My hands trembled as I held the speaker to my ear; I became aware of what seemed like footsteps slowly creeping. A constant high-pitched tone sounded, the torture of the slow realisation that the phone line has been cut! I was doomed…
The slow footsteps gradually became louder until it was as deafening as a pneumatic drill. “Who’s there?” I yelled again, this time my voice was shaking. My eyes slowly became out of focus, as I watched the stiff door handle of my room turn…
