The nightfall can be haunting and scary.

I switched off the television and all the lights downstairs. I paced to the kitchen, grabbed some lemonade before I ascended up the staircase and got into my room. I closed the door gently behind me. I laid the lemonade on my bedside table, careful not to wet the duvet with it. I jumped under the duvet. Warmth embraced me!

I sat up, stretched my hand and gulped the lemonade. It just hit the spot, the satisfaction I derived from that gulp was out of this world. I heard unfamiliar sounds from the outside. I dismissed my instincts and reached for my phone. I slid the keypad and started messing with it before the sounds from outside gained volume. It was getting louder and louder!

I switched my phone off and threw it under the mattress. I carefully removed the covers off of me, made my bed and tiptoed my way to the window. I stood dry when I heard voices and saw shadows creeping through the curtain. Who were they? What did they want? Oh no, no, no! I panicked when my mind registered them as scoundrels.

I almost died when the window glasses clunk and shattered. Some fragments fell and cut on my skin, opening a very dreadful scar. I could see the blood overflowing. See, I was haemoglobin. I snatched the lemonade and dived under the bed when the second object finished off what was left on the window frames.

I was breathing so heavy yet silent. My heart was beating faster than millions mile an hour! The wound wasn’t helping. It was becoming more and more painful with each second the clock ticked. It was like someone was torturing it.

The whispers I could only hear were approaching the opening. Thuds gradually increased in the room. I was so scared that my backdoor opening released unfavourable odour, and almost pissed myself. I felt my insides jumping!
The scoundrels made some sounds with the objects in the room. I could tell that they were ripping my room apart. I held my breath and tried not thinking about it. I closed my ears.

“Are you done?” a voice asked.

“Yes, we found some valuables. Diamonds, golds and some nickel!” the other one answered.

“We’re going to be rich!” another voice chimed in.

“Let’s go before some good neighbours spot us!” they all agreed.

The swarm of honeybees drifting in my stomach stopped when their thuds were faint.

“Wait! The kid!” the voice echoed. I farted the world’s worst, most horrible, smelly fart I’ve never heard in my life. Luckily, they didn’t hear it. They fought about whether to look for the ‘kid’ or not.

“Okay, we can go, but he was seen during the day,” the talkative voice said.

“He had sleepover. He wouldn’t risk sleeping alone. He knows it’s not safe, considering they are located at bad neighbourhood,” the other voiced convinced.

They all agreed to leave, and left.

I woke up with the worst headache in history. The house was ripped off in every way possible. I called my parents and explained what happened. They were glad I was above ground, but I was still traumatised about what happened the previous night.


Tell us what you think: Have you ever been home alone? Where you scared?