Let's Not Meet Again

I Was Home Alone

It was the middle of summer and my parents had left for the weekend to go to our house in the Cape Cod. It's about a two hour drive away so it's no big deal for them to leave me alone for a few days. My mom had made some pulled pork and pasta for me to heat up to eat whenever and I had some money if I wanted to order a Pizza. Things were all good, the first night I was alone I stayed up till 3 in the morning playing xbox so I woke up really late the next day.

I checked my phone when I woke up and saw it was a little past one, I had made plans to play some street hockey with my friends at 3 so I threw myself out of bed and stumbled into the shower. I take really long showers, so when my parents are gone I go mental. I was in there for about 45 minutes on my phone scrolling through reddit and twitter and what not, when I heard my front door open. The bathroom is directly up the stairs from the back door, and the thing is pretty loud when it opens and closes. I immediately froze, since obviously I was supposed to be alone. I waited for about 2 minutes, ears trained in trying to hear anything else.

Nothing.

I figured it was just the wind or maybe my parents were home early, so I turned off the shower, wrapped my towel around myself, and slowly walked down the stairs to check it out. So the stairs to the kitchen (where the back door is) are pretty tight and walled in, so it's essentialy like walking down a tighter version of but replacing the rail with a wall. So I can't see into the kitchen when i walk down.

Even though my house is old as shit and each step on the stairs makes a super loud creak, I still took my time and tried to be as quiet as possible. I probably took 45 seconds walking down all 12 of the stairs. So when I get to the second to last stair (right before I could see around the corner into the kitchen) I take a little breath to compose myself. In my mind I knew I was being stupid, there obviously wasn't anything in the Kitchen, there's no way I wouldn't have heard another noise and there's no reason for them to still be in the kitchen even if there were burglars or something in the house. After sort of mentally chastising myself for being such a wuss, I sort of chuckle to myself for being so stupid and just normally walk the last two stairs and turn the corner into the kitchen.

Standing about two feet away from me in the middle of my kitchen is a man staring straight at me, perfectly still, with a massive smile across his face. Just staring at me.

The thing I remember most vividly wasn't his face or his smile but his arms, they weren't just at his side - he held them in the strangest most abornmal position I've ever seen. They were where one would normally hold there arms, but he had rotated them to the point where they were almost completely reversed as well as lifting them up and a little behind himself. I don't know why I remember this so much, but it's just the most demonic abnormal position I've ever seen.

Honest to god I think I almost had a heart attack right there. Looking back I can realize how fucking creepy this situation was, but in the moment I just took a step towards him and punched him as hard as I could in the jaw, sort of half slapping/pushing him towards the ground. The second I connected, I beelined up the stairs, dropping my towel in the kitchen with my heart beating out of control. I fucking sprinted into my room and locked the door behind me. I quickly put a chair up against the doorknob like you see in TV. Almost without thinking I immediately called 911 and, nearly in tears, told the operator what happened.

As I sat on the floor of my room, in practically the fetal position, staring at the door praying that a cop would be here soon I noticed the light coming from the gap between my door had stopped.

The fucker was standing outside of my door.

There's no words to describe the feeling I had, I was paralyzed with fear; watching the shadow across the bottom of the door shift in tiny ways. I stayed balled up, staring at the gap, praying the man would go away for what seemed like an hour. All the while, the 911 operator was asking, "Hello... Sir, sir are you there? Hello..?" I didn't want to make a noise, and even if I wanted to move my arms to bring the phone to my mouth i don't think I could have.

Eventually the light returned to the gap and I heard the faintest of footsteps, slowly creaking the wooden floorboards as he walked down the hall. It was silent for minutes as I just sat there curled up, unable to even speak. I heard banging on the front door and the sound of two officers entering my house. I finally felt safe, and I opened the door to the two of them standing there I almost cried.

Nowadays my parents don't even leave me home alone anymore, thank god, and I check every lock on the house before going to bed. I still get nightmares occasionally, and I my heart starts racing whenever I see someone standing still - but I'm doing alright. Even working with sketch artists and a few lineups, the police never found whoever the fuck was in my house. That sends shivers down my spine every time I look outside, half expecting to see him standing across the street smiling under a lamp post. I have no idea what he wanted, or who he was, but regardless...

let's not meet. Ever again.