I checked the clock on the computer. 2:30 AM. I knew it was time to go to bed. As much of a night owl as I was, I didn't want to end up sleeping in until 2 PM again. Summer break allowed that kind of living, but in a month, when I was off to college, I couldn't stay up so late. I would have 8 or 9 AM classes. I had to get used to going to bed at 11 or midnight.
I grabbed my phone and quietly walked up the stairs and down the hall to my room. Not wasting much time, I tiptoed into my bathroom, brushed my teeth, had a quick piss, and went back to my bedroom. For quite a while, I just browsed on my phone. Finally, after probably an hour, I got tired and plugged it in. I flicked off the light and buried my head deep into my pillow.
I tried to relax my body, telling it to just go to sleep, but for some reason, it just didn't want to. I lied there for maybe forty minutes, shifting my position, finding the cold spots under the sheets, but I just couldn't seem to fall asleep.
Eventually, I dozed off, just getting through the first stage of sleep, when I heard a creak. I'm very sensitive to sound, and my floor is extremely creaky right by the door. At first, I simply dismissed it as just one of those everyday noises of the house. But then I heard another. My heart started pounding. Being the dramatic teen I was, I often wondered what would occur if an armed intruder were to invade the house, looking for valuables, or simply blood to spill.
I was on-edge, but I was hoping I would calm down soon enough. There was no chance of that happening once I heard the third creak. I was getting very suspicious that someone was in my room. I had a flashlight next to my bed, so I slowly reached down and wrapped my hand around the cold metal. Swiftly, a pulled it up and pressed the button, pointing it in the direction of the creaks.
The bright light filled the room, revealing my normal room, with one addition: a large man. The man was around 6 foot 1, very muscular, and had a tattoo of a snake curling around an axe on his right bicep. He had a buzzcut and a small beard. He wore a white t-shirt under a black and blue jacket, and baggy black pants. The man had to be around 30 years old. He held a pistol in his right hand.
I was just about to cry out when he leapt forward onto the bed, roughly covering my mouth with his left hand. Terrified and startled, I dropped the flashlight onto my floor. I shot my hand out for the pocket knife on my nightstand, but before I could grab it, he snatched my arm and pulled it back to the bed.
"Ah ah ah. Sorry, kid. Can't have you stabbing me tonight." His voice was smooth and unwavering.
Now, most guys my age would've been able to at least wrestle with him, put up a good fight. Some could've even knocked an an attacker right out. However, I was a smaller guy, not very buff either. Plus, I was groggy from sleep and partially paralyzed with terror.
How had he even gotten in? I had made sure to lock all the doors before going to bed. Then again, there were multiple opportunities for someone to get in without my knowing as long as they were quiet, like if I went to the bathroom. Then it would just be a matter of getting to a hiding spot until they could emerge and begin to walk about the house, grabbing whatever caught their eye.
We locked eyes. He began to speak softly.
"All right, kid, you're gonna show me where all the valuables are in this room. If you don't, well, you know what'll happen." He nodded at the gun in his hand.
Slowly, I got out of the bed, and he slid off it, hitting the floor with a thud. I went around my room and got the only valuable things, mainly just a wallet and a couple watches. After I had collected all the items and given them to him, he turned me toward the door and pressed the gun to my back. "Walk out the door."
I did as he said. My heart was pounding. We paused outside the door next to mine. "Who's in there?" he asked.
"My brother and his girlfriend." I replied. His eyes lit up as I said the word "girlfriend."
"How old are they?"
"Both 23 years old." My brother's girlfriend would come for visits and my parents were fine with her staying in his room.
"Damn it," he muttered. "Are both your parents in that bedroom?" He pointed at the room at the end of the hall.