The Intruder (short story)

The Intruder

Hey this is my FIRST EVER attempt at writing for fun so be kind but honest please:)
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I can't remember how old I was but I know I would have had to been between ten to twelve because we didn't have a dog at the time. I was always an independent kid. I never minded being on my own - in fact, I preferred it. I loved it when my family would leave and I could have the house to myself. I could come downstairs and sit on the big couch and I would have the big screen TV all to myself.

My brother has played hockey since I could remember. He had a practice or a game almost every night and my parents would drag me to the rink with them for years. I finally convinced them to let me stay home alone and It was great. I did this for years. I got to watch tv on the big screen and eat chocolate almost every night. But that all changed on THAT night. It was summer. I remember because my brother only had really late games in the summer. My parents took him to the rink one night for a game and left with the promise of returning before 1:00 am. It could take anywhere from 2 to 5 hours before they returned depending on how far the rink was located.
You see we lived on the outskirts of town. We weren't necessarily in the country as we could see our neighbors house from our porch but there was a large field separating them. But we were far enough out of town that the road that led up to the house was a gravel one. You could hear a car coming up the road so it always gave me time to throw out my candy rappers before my family could walk through the door.

That night started completely normal. I stood on the porch with my mom as my dad and brother loaded the car. As they were doing so it started to drizzle and by the time they had it all packed up and were pulling out the driveway way it was completely raining. It couldn't have been more than two hours when I was watching tv on the couch when I suddenly got really cold. It was down pouring at this point and was completely dark outside but I remember thinking it was weird how cold I was because although it was raining and night we were in the middle of a heatwave that summer and my parents didn't like us turning on the airconditioning.

I got off the couch and went upstairs to my room to get a sweater. As I was putting it on in my room I heard the door open. I remember thinking it was weird I didn't hear my family's car drive up but I still went to go downstairs and see why they were home early. As I was about to call out to my mom I reached the top of the stairs and froze.
I had never felt that much fear course through my body before and I have yet to come close to feeling it again.

As I looked over the banister I could see a man, but only from the waist down. He had muddy construction boots on and dirty blue jeans, and in his hand hanging beside his left hip was a gun.

I'd never seen a gun in real life before, other than my brother's old bb gun. It looked different through. It looked old and it wasn't like the guns they have on police shows. It was small and later the police told me that based on my description of the weapon it was a Smith and Wesson.

People say that when they get scared that they feel their blood run cold but I felt the opposite. I felt hot. Really hot. I started sweating so much a bead of it feel into my eye. I was still standing there when he took a step forward further into the house and out of my sight. I slowly backed up into my room and reached to close the door but my hand couldn't stop shaking.

I let out a sob and immediately slapped my hands over my face. I reached out again with one hand and slowly twisted the handle and swung the door quickly right before it hit the frame and carefully closed it all the way before turning the handle back into place.
I was still crying so I threw my other hand back over my mouth and scrunched my eyes together so tightly it hurt and mentally screamed at myself to stop crying or he would hear me.