JM Presents: A Collection of Bone-Chilling Stories

The Break-In

        Our house is generally large. Three bedrooms, three bathrooms, a kitchen and living space, and a two linen closets. We live in a modern neighborhood, and their typically isn't any crime or commotion within these homes. Maybe an occasional psycho boyfriend every couple of months, and sometimes a disturbance, but nothing really ever involving robbery or murder. My name is Kevin, i'm 13, and I live in my house with my mom and my dad. Being my age is hard as hell. I definitely feel like i'm becoming more independent; I disregard a lot of my chores, and sometimes I ignore demands made by my family. It's kind of a phase. My age group typically brings that type of behavior, and you can't really do anything except demand more, be more assertive and invite stronger motivation. I utterly disregard any social event invitation, dinners, family nights, or family re-unions. I feel like a real ass when I do, but I always just shrug it off. Nothing is wrong with being a little mean. 

            My mom and dad are going out tonight, and of course, as always, they invited me to go to make it a "family dinner". Of course I denied the request so I could stay home and listen to my playlists, and play my video games. I hear the door slam behind them, the car engine start up, and the car speed off down the street. I sat in silence for about 30 minutes, just relaxing, listening to my playlists. I eventually had turned on the TV, blaring sound louder than ever. However, right as I turned it down, a small tumble, followed by a large bang ensued the TV volume's decreasing. I sat with my head tilted towards my bedroom door, awaiting anymore sound. I couldn't tell if the sound was real, or maybe it was something on TV. But it didn't make sense, the TV channel was on some cooking show I had accidentally left on. I sat a few more minutes, frozen in place, not even thinking about moving a muscle. Twitching an eye. Even breathing. My chest tightened up, and I began to sweat profusely. The house went to an eerie silence, and some instinct, somewhere deep down in my gut told me, "Get up." And for some reason, I listened. I slowly extended my legs off the end of my bed and slightly slid to the end to avoid any creaks or bed springs to make any noise. I felt my feet touch the carpet, and I quickly slid myself off the bed, without any noise but a minor shuffle in the sheets. My eyes quickly observed the dark hallway, that eventually led to the stairs going down into the living room. I quietly tip-toed around the doorway and into the main hall. The main hall is primarily wooden flooring, so any creak in the floorboards could quickly end up as the end of my life. 

           I couldn't risk flicking on any light switch, so any source of lighting was out of the question. Getting my phone wouldn't change anything because a flashlight is too bright, and the main screen is too dim, even with the brightness setting up. My heart was racing at this point, my blood was pumping throughout my veins, and my face was ghosted. I felt genuinely sick at the thought of an intruder in the same home as me. No parents, no pets, just me. "Now or Never." That's what my gut told me again, only this time I genuinely couldn't move. I looked down the hall and saw a figure. Male, about 6'1", skinny and fragile, with what seemed to be a ski mask on. The glow of the TV from my room glowed upon his eyes, which looked red as the screen changed. He couldn't see me, however. I was closer to my parents bedroom, which cascaded into a long shadow along the carpet, also shadowing me within it. He slowly walked around, looking paranoid as to why the TV was on. He glimpsed over towards my parents bedroom which was still darker than midnight itself. My TV changed colors as ads displayed back to back. I knew I couldn't stay in here much longer, as he would search in this room as well. I knew I had to leave. Now. 

       The plan in my head was to wait until he entered my bedroom slowly, and as he searched around the room, to sprint downstairs, into the kitchen, and grab the biggest knife we had. I tensed up at the idea, but knew I really had no other choice. I don't have any defensive "weapons" in mom and dad's room. Then, it came quicker than expected. He entered my room, scanning left and right for anything valuable. I took my opportunity. I darted out of the dark room and fled down the stairs. The floorboards smacked and creaked all the way down until I was in the kitchen. A dim light was lit above the stove. To the right of the stove was the knife block with all sizes of knives in it. I grabbed the largest one in the largest spot and ran behind the right side of the stair railing. The intruder stepped down the stairs, each giving a large creak after I had stomped down them. He looked left and right. It wasn't until he directly in front of me at the bottom of the stairs that my entire soul fell into a bottomless pit. In his hand was a handgun. A long barrel ran on the front of it, indicating it must be a suppressor of some sort. I sat with the knife to my chest, controlling my shaking hands. He steadily walked along the base floor, entering the kitchen, handgun pointed up towards head-height. Suddenly, I heard the engine of a car approaching. The car halted in front of the driveway and my parents exited.

       The doors slammed hard. Now, not only was my own life in danger, my parents' lives were in danger now too. The man had now exited the kitchen and looked panicked. He must've heard the car. He had ran back up the stairs into my room, and I heard the door slam shut. I took the opportunity to open the front door and sprint towards my parents. Knife in hand, they were frightened and took a step back. I realized I had the knife still, and dropped it, as it made a large "TING" sound. I ran to them, now crying and breathing out of control. "What the hell is going on, Kevin!?" my mom had yelled. I told them, "There is a man in our house. With a handgun. He's going around, stealing our things." My dad told us to get in the car as quick as possible, and for my mom to dial 911. 

        My mom called the police, and about 4 minutes later, the street lit up in red and blue. The police did a full search throughout the entire house. Every room, behind every door, in every closet, every cabinet. Under every bed. They came out empty-handed. They said the coast was completely clear, and that the intruder must've found an escape. I was disturbed when they told me that everything seemed normal. No windows opened or unlocked. No doors closed or opened. I asked, "So then how did he get in?" They shook their heads and said, "We don't know. Maybe he closed the main door after he broke in to make it look like he wasn't actually robbing anything. Like he lived here." They asked for a description, where I could really only tell them, "He looked middle-age. Black ski mask, about 6'1", and skinny." 

     That night was still confusing and distressing. I slept with my parents that night, as the fear of the intruder would continue to enter my mind again and again. However, the worst of it was to come in the morning. 

    As the sun rose over the horizon, I found the courage to wake up before my parents, and slip into my bedroom to watch TV, with my door closed and window locked. I slipped back into my bed, still untouched from the night before. I laid back slowly and touched my pillow. My head rung as I hit something hard. Felt like a rock. I picked up the pillow. Nothing there. Maybe I just am thinking too hard about it? I laid back on it. There it is again. This time I physically took the case off. I sat with my eyes wide open in terror. There was the handgun, with the suppressor.