It is late at night, 11:20AM to be precise. I’m up late studying for an English test tomorrow. I have grammar down. I need to work on punctuation and spelling though. Grammar? Is that how you spell it? Yes, though I won’t need to spell that tomarow. Tommarow? Tomarrow? I hate spelling. Anyway, it’s late. I should start to finish studying now. I closed my English book and went down the hall to the kitchen. I grabbed an apple and bit into it. It was too sour. I set it down on the table, and went back into the dining room to put my books away. I put them into my backpack and put it near the door for tommarow. I still can’t spell that. I walked back down the hall and climbed the stairs next to the kitchen. I walked into the bathroom to brush my teeth, and then changed and climbed into bed.
***
I had a dream that I was being chased by a killer, and he grabbed me. “I’ll be there soon!,” he growled. And then, he dropped my and he vanished. I fell, into a black abyss. I fell for what seemed like 10 seconds, then everything went blurry and then it all went black. Then I woke up with a start.
I looked around my room, I looked through the blackness. I saw movement out of the corner of my eye, and I saw the Killer, standing there. Right outside my 2nd story window. I tried to scream, but it wouldn’t come out. It was trapped inside my throat, and I felt helpless. I closed for my eyes for a while, I didn’t want to see him. I didn’t want to believe he was there. But I knew. When I opened my eyes again, he was gone.
I drifted off to sleep then, but when I woke up, I was sure it was a dream. Until I saw the window open. I started sweating, and it had nothing to do with the temperature. I saw my bedroom door open, and I knew what had happened. I dropped out of bed, and walked towards the window. There was a ladder outside. The glass of the window had been broken, and the lock was un-locked. Then, it hit me. A serial killer was in my house, or maybe….he still is. He looked liked the killer from my dream, and I knew it was him.
My family, what had happened to them? I was afraid to leave my room, for fear that he could still be in the house. I waited a minute to build up some courage, then walked down the hall into my brother Josh’s room. He was ok, and I was relieved. I crept to his bed, and woke him up. “What do you want?” He scowled. “It’s 5 in the morning, let me sleep.” “It’s important,” I began. “A killer is in the house with us.” I looked at his face in the dawn light, he didn’t believe me. “What are you talking about?” he cried. I told him to shut his mouth; the killer could still be in the house after all. I then explained to him what had happened the previous night. “I need to call the police. Give me your cell phone. He was still a bit skeptical, but I could see he was nervous. I called 911, and we silently went downstairs to my parent’s room. He was armed with a base-ball bat, I had my pocket knife. We found that our parents were fine, and we told them what happened too. I helped my dad push his King-sized bed against the door, and we waited for the police to come.
When the police arrived, we un-barricaded the door and I told them about what had happened. The police searched every room of the house, and found him hiding under my bed, with a knife.
