BURGLAR ALERT

My eyes flew open. “What was that sound?”

It was a dark and cold night. Before going to bed, I had shut the windows and pulled the blinds tightly to keep out the chill and the outside light. I held my breath and listened, reaching for my phone on the bedside table. 

The glow of the screen stung my eyes, so I blinked steadily, letting them adjust to the light. Ignoring the missed call and notification icons, I focused on the clock. It was 2 a.m.

Just then, my phone beeped — and the battery died. Groaning, I tossed it to one side of the bed and pulled my blanket over my head. I must have been dreaming, I told myself, willing my body back to sleep.

But then, the sound of a window shattering jolted me upright. I knew I hadn’t imagined that. My heartbeat quickened.

Someone is trying to break into my home! I screamed silently in my head.

What am I going to do? What number do I reach the police on? 

My thoughts raced. With my phone dead, there was no way to call anyone. Cold ripples ran down my body, and I felt completely helpless. I shut my eyes and prayed with all my heart.

Another crash followed. This time, I was sure — the burglar had gained entrance into my home. I needed help. My neighbor was my best option. I fumbled around my bed in the darkness, searching frantically for my second phone, when I suddenly remembered — I had left it in the living room.

I was home alone, terrified, and out of options. You have to do something. You have to protect your home! A brave voice in my head urged.

How? I asked myself, trembling. I prayed silently, desperate for courage.

Open the window and scream your head off, the same voice encouraged.

Gathering what little courage I had, I threw off my blanket and tiptoed toward the window. My fingers shook as I tried to lift it — it felt impossibly heavy. I managed to pull it open slightly and noticed the security lights were still on outside. That was when I heard them — loud screams and an intense argument drifting in through the window.

Sighing softly, I took slow, steady breaths to calm my racing heart and trembling hands. My knees gave way, and I collapsed onto the cold tiled floor, chuckling with relief.

It was just my neighbors. They were at it again. I sat there, listening to them hurl profanities at each other, shaking my head.

“These people no go kill me,” I muttered, dragging myself off the floor. For the first time since they’d moved in, I was thankful — thankful that it was only their usual midnight quarrel, and not a burglar.

Then the woman screamed again, and I knew it was time to be a good neighbor.