Journal #24

Many, many years ago, I was a young girl. Living in the capital city, crime was just booming. I was a bright, intelligent girl with a great imagination from reading so many books. The one problem with me was that I never could fall asleep easily. I would sometimes just lay in bed, thinking about my complex and complicated seven year old life. Sometimes I would read an entire book in one night; I was a very cool child.

Anyway, so this one night will stick out to me for the rest of my life. I was laying in bed like normal, and my parents had already gone to bed. Ever night, my mom would come in and kiss me good night before going to bed every night. She had already come in and done that many hours ago, so it was probably around midnight or a little bit after. So there I was, laying in bed, trying to fall asleep, when I heard it. Then I heard it again. There were footsteps coming from my kitchen. The way my house had been laid out was that so most of the house was on the upper floor: my room was next to my brothers' room, and next to that was the bathroom. Straight down the hall was the kitchen, and the room next to that was the living room. My parents' room was the only room that was not upstairs, and it was in the basement, down two flights of stairs.

The footsteps were getting louder. Then they retreated. Then they got louder. Then they retreated. There was someone walking around my kitchen! I had no idea what to do. I just lay there, hiding under my covers, trying not to breathe too loudly in case the man came into my room and saw that I was awake. I had no idea how long I stayed that like; all I know is that I was scared out of my mind. Taking a deep breath, I made a decision. I was going to run into the room my two brothers shared; that way, I was not alone. I closed my eyes, said a quick prayer, and ran for my life. I quietly slammed their door behind me, then stopped short. The footsteps were coming from the room I was now in. Except... they were not footsteps. My brother's snoring had been echoing through the house. I had been deceived by my all too imaginative brain.