“Dennis, we’re leaving.”
“Alright,” I replied to my dad as he and the rest of my family were going out. I had decided to stay at home because I had been too tired to join them. After they had left, I immediately went over to my fridge and grabbed some Coke, then I proceeded to my pantry to get some snacks. As I was about to head upstairs, I thought I should put the alarm on in case someone tries to break in, because that is how an eleven year-old boy thinks, always in the world of “what if…”
However, what if an incident actually happens. I had been on my way to my room upstairs when the alarm went off. Then I did what any sensible eleven year-old would do. I ran to the kitchen, grabbed the biggest knife I could find and a telephone and ran to hide in my closet. Then I called 911.
“Hello, this is the emergency response number. What is your situation?”
“I’m home alone and I think someone broke into my house.”
“Ok, I am going to send police to your location, just stay on the phone with me, alright?
“Now I’m going to keep talking to you, you don’t have to answer though if you think it is unsafe to do. Ok?”
“What’s your name?”
“And where are you, Dennis?”
“In my house.”
“Where in your house, Dennis?”
“In my closet.”
At this point, I thought I heard footsteps around my house. A creak of the floorboards here and there, even thinking that the guy was right outside my bedroom door at one point.
“And how old are you, Dennis?”
“Are you alright? When you have the chance respond. If anything happens, hang up the phone so we know if you’re in trouble.
“… I can hear footsteps.”
“Ok, the police are almost at your house, just wait until we tell you what to do?”
I remember just sitting there and waiting for everything to be ok, and for the woman to tell me everything was ok. She continued to talk about mindless things, asking questions, but I was too terrified to answer any of them.
“Ok. Dennis, the police have walked around your house and don’t see any sign of entry. Do you think you can go to the front door and let them in?”
That walk was the longest walk through my house I have ever done. I walked with the phone in one hand, and the knife in the other. Whenever I had to round a corner or move anywhere a door was, or anywhere I thought someone could attack me from, I moved extremely slow, pointing my knife in that direction in case someone attacked. I remember constantly checking my back to see if anybody was sneaking up behind me. It was terrible.
My nerves were constantly on edge. Any flicker of movement I thought I saw freaked me out and stopped me right in my tracks until I was sure there was no one there. Any sound forced me to jump completely off the ground and make the hair on the back of my neck rise up. Each second felt like a minute, and the door felt like it was a mile away.
When I finally managed to get to the door, I unlocked it and let two cops into my house. I remember how one of the cops laughed as he saw the knife I was holding up at him, not even bothering with it as he went through to search through my house for the intruder. The other cop checked to make sure I was all right before joining the other cop to do a thorough check of the house, but the second cop always made sure to stay where she could see me and make sure I was safe.
After the cops had checked the entire house and declared there was no intruder in the house, all three of us went to check the alarm system to see what had happened. When we got to the alarm, one of the cops read it and started laughing. I then read it and felt really stupid. I had set my alarm to “Away” instead of “Stay” and had tripped off my own alarm when I had been walking away from the kitchen with my snacks. The other cop didn’t seem so happy though that he had been called out for no reason. I apologized a lot to the two cops after that for the inconvenience.
After I had learned what had happened, I called my parents and told them what happened. Of course, as soon as they heard they came rushing back, but there was still some time before they arrived. It was very awkward just standing with the cops, waiting for my parents to arrive. I felt extremely uncomfortable after what had just happened, and then I remembered what my mom told me to do whenever I have guests over. I turned to both of the cops, and kindly asked them, “Do you guys want something to drink?”
© Copyright 2016 Dennis Kostidis. All rights reserved.
Short Story / Humor
Short Story / Non-Fiction
Essay / Editorial and Opinion
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