Prodigal

~11~

I was reading in my room later that night when I heard the shatter of glass disturbingly close. I walked out of my room and looked down to see a human figure wearing all black running through the house, and the giant window in the living room was broken into.

Panic rushed through me, and as I was about to scream a hand went over my mouth from behind me. Sheer terror coursed through me and I screamed a muffled scream, only to soon realize that it was Dad behind me. My muffled scream, however, caught the attention of the intruder and they were soon running up the stairs towards us.

Dad grabbed me and darted to his bedroom where he slammed and locked the door, but not before making full eye contact with the intruder, wearing a ski mask, now upstairs, coming after us. In moments there was a jolting of the door handle, the intruder trying to break into the bedroom.

Dad took my hand again and led me into his walk in closet. He closed the door to that. He walked all the way to the back wall where he pushed on it and it turned around, as a secret door. He led me into the room, a panic room.

I had no idea that there was a panic room in our house. He sealed the door and locked it.

“Don’t panic.” Dad said to me. “This is our panic room. There’s no way anyone can get in once it’s locked. They can’t hear us, either. But we can hear them. There’s food, water, a bathroom, a bed and monitors in here. And a phone. I’m going to call the police. Lay down and try to relax.”

There was no way I could relax. I was stunned at what just happened. The panic room looked like it was made out of steel, which it probably was. On one wall there was monitors showing everywhere in the house. (In hind sight, that’s creepy.) On the right side there was a phone and a refrigerator. To the left there was a toilet and sink. In the middle was a bed. I sat down on the bed, nearly paralyzed in fear.

“At least one person broke into my home.” I heard Dad say on the phone to the police. “We’re in the panic room. On the other side of the master bedroom’s walk in closet wall. You’ll knock four times, okay? Please, hurry.”

My panic had rendered me paralyzed. Dad came over and sat on the bed next to me, wrapping his arms around me.

A minute later, I heard banging on the door. “LUKE HEMMINGS!” I heard a voice yell. “I know you’re in there!”

Tears fell down my face and I cowered my head into his chest. He hugged me even tighter. I was shaking uncontrollably. “They can’t get in here.” I heard Dad say. I didn’t know if he was trying to convince me or himself.

About five minutes, but what felt like five eternities later, the police came, knocked four times and showed their badges to the monitor. Dad opened up for them, and they told us that the intruders were not caught. I was so freaked out that I slept in the panic room that night with the doors closed and Dad right next to me.

Notes

I think we've honestly all gone through that phase where you're an early teen and you really don't want to be around your parents but at the same time you do, ya feel me?