The Intruder

The story of coming face to face with the man

At 2 am I was still tossing and turning nursing an upset stomach. Maybe it was the many drinks from the night before’s party or perhaps it was the massive spread of food that our host graciously provided.

Whichever had caused it, as I descended the stairs, I knew I needed some relief from this misery.

As I crept toward the kitchen, walking past the living room, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. Thinking it was the dog, I turned to see what he had gotten himself into.

That’s when I saw the man standing there. I froze in fear, realizing what was going on. I wish I could have moved, to shout out, or do something.
But when this situation happens to you, your animal instincts to survive kick in.

I watched the large man as he moved about, lowering his bag to the floor, opening it to begin his work. All I could do was stand and watch as my life flashed before my eyes.

Had I been a good person, had I done everything I could to help friends and family? Weighing my behavior against that invisible scale you learned early as a child, wondering what the next few minutes will bring.

How he hadn’t heard me, I’ll never know, but I was eerily transfixed how he was…