| Terrified |
| Christin Bressler |
| It's three days after my sixth birthday and I am sound asleep in the room I share with my three-year old sister. She sleeps on the trundle bed next to mine. Living in an apartment complex, we are accustomed to hearing the traffic on the highway outside our window. I'm not bothered by this, but my sister sometimes awakens and climbs into bed with my parents in the next room. I suddenly awake, feeling something tickling my arm. I'm terribly afraid of spiders, and I often imagine them crawling on me. However, this time, I'm certain that something brushed my arm. I check, but find nothing. As I try to go back to sleep, a sound startles me. I turn my head in the direction of the sounds and discover my sister is gone. Suddenly, I realize there is someone (something?) in the room with me. Straining to see in the dim light from the window, I see a dark shadow at the foot of my bed. My pulse quickens. Could it be my dad? But before relief can set in, I realize with a rush of fear, there is a stranger staring back at me. He doesn't move, but continues to look at me as if waiting for me to do something. But I'm frozen with fear; I don't know what I should do. this goes on for what seems an eternity. I manage to slowly glance around the room. I see the man standing by the open window at the foot of my bed. My sister's bed has been knocked across the floor at an angle, and my door is shut. I want my mom. Should I call for her? What will he do? Does he have a gun? I begin to shake as I realize the danger I am in; I must get help no matter what. I finally find my voice, quiet and shaky: "Mom!" The man continues to stare at me. There is no answer from my mom, so I try again. "Mom!" My voice grows a bit louder. I hope she hears me this time. "What is it, Christy?" "Mom, I need you!" The man doesn't even flinch. "You just had a bad dream; go back to sleep." "No, Mom, I really need you!" I say, hoping she will hear the urgency in my voice. "Okay. Hold on. I'll be there in a minute." The man stands like a statue by the bed. He never takes his eyes off me. My mother finally comes to my room to check on me. "The door's locked," she says, "Christy, unlock the door." "I can't. I can't get out of bed." I hear my mother's exasperation as she searches for something to unlock the door. I want to tell her what's going on, but I'm still afraid of what the man might do. Why doesn't he leave? I'm still terrified. My heart continues to pound so loudly I can hear it in my ears. I impatiently wait for my mom to find a key and unlock my door. Finally, I hear the metallic click of a key in the door. The door swings open, and the man leaps out of my window and disappears like a ghost. My mom makes her way to my bed, nearly tripping over the trundle bed that has been pushed out of place. She sits on my bed and soothingly says "It's okay, it was just a bad dream. Everything's okay." I adamantly tell her no, and tell her about the man who'd been in my room. She still thinks I'm dreaming until she checks the window and finds it wide open. She wakes my dad, and he calls the police. The police quickly arrive at the apartment. There are two officers; they sit me down and question me. "Was the man tall and skinny, or short and fat?" Suddenly, I can't remember what he looked like; all I can remember are those eyes staring at me. The police receive another call. The man has gone to the complex next to ours and has burglarized another apartment and raped a woman. Unfortunately, they don't arrive there in time; he has left. The man was never apprehended. |
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