Intruder: A True Story

As almost every horror buff out there, I've grown up watching "scary" movies and action-packed violence. Guts and gore has never affected me much and I didn't even bat an eye while watching Chucky when I was 6. It all seemed way too unrealistic. Nothing like that could ever happen to me and I have a colossal monster of a dad who always told me things in the dark were scared of him. By that fact alone, I was untouchable.

*~*~*

The following story actually happened. Be scared.

So now we set the date of October 26th 2002, a cool but clear night in the shinning streets of a not-so-lovely town. The next door neighbors of our city house threw themselves a Halloween party filled with alcoholic drinks, an overabundance of food and loud music. Seeing as they were also my dad's cousins, a whole boat-load of my actual family was there. This included my cousins Jessica (dead red riding hood) and Cameron (Michael Myers), their parents, a few distant relatives and even some I don't think I've met before. But even though the house was overcrowded, we had a blast.

Soon it was getting late and the adults were a little tipsy. Me, my sister and my cousins hiked it over the little alleyway to our home where we began playing with makeup and fake blood in our small, second floor bathroom.

My sister Angel, age 12 at the time, was designated the babysitter of us three nine-year-olds. She was first to paint Cameron's face while Jessica and I watched on the sidelines. But after a while, we were too excited and Jess ended up painting my face into a cat. I sat in front of the doorway watching the hall since it was the only other place we could fit a chair. It was an awesome night and one I was never going to forget.

Dun Dunn DUUUUUUNNNNN!!! So now we get to the terrifying part.

How my house is set up, from the doorway of the bathroom you can see the front entrance of the house. Because it was a cool night after a hot day, we left the screen door open to let in a breeze. We didn't know we would also let in an intruder.

My eyes opened wide seeing a man dressed as Scream --bloody mask and all-- walk into our house after tripping over the carpet on the porch. I flicked off the lights as quickly as possible and picked up the chair. My sister started to say something when she heard that man downstairs. We all panicked knowing our parents were next door and we were too far from any phone to call for help. We were trapped in what seemed to be the perfect scenario for an 80s slasher movie.

In our small bathroom there were few places to hide. My cousins and I stayed close together next to the towels, holding onto them as if they were our security blankets we've left on our beds. They later came in handy since my cousin Cameron wet himself in fear. But even though it stank of pee, we were safe and out of sight.

My sister on the other hand couldn't fit with us. She stayed more towards the door and hid next to the toilet behind the wall shown in the illustration on the side. I can still see to this day the terror Angel felt; the crease in her forehead, the sweat running down her cheek. That fear was rushing through my blood as well.

Scream, the intruder, stumbled through our house while grunting with every step. I heard him stomp over the first floor, making his way to the basement in the dead silent house. He ran down the stairs and searched and searched. We were afraid but kept as calm as we could. We couldn't afford to let him hear us cry.

The man walked the basement, not making much of an impression. I thought he was a robber trying to steal the jewelry and antiques we kept in our house. If that were true, he could have made a few hundred dollars in the first room. But he persisted on, climbing the basement stairs and returning to the first floor. Peeking out to making eye contact with my sister, we had the same idea cross our minds. As he walked up to the second floor, we knew he was searching for only one thing: us.