One summer evening more than 11 years ago I found myself reading well into the early hours of the morning. That summer I had discovered the joy of reading. So much so I couldn't let a night go by without clutching a book and sticking my nose between the pages. I would usually stay up until 4 or 5 in the morning reading. I loved to read and seriously I still can not believe it took me that long to discover the written word.
That night was no different. I went out with friends until 10 or so then headed home, chatted with my mom for a little bit and then proceeded to read. Sometime after 1 am I needed to readjust my position and in doing so something had caught my eye out the window. I froze. My heart began racing. OH.MY.GOD. Was that what I think it was? A man staring at me through my window just a mear 2 feet away. No way, I thought. My mind must have playing with me. I waited. The man, I think, was as surprised as I was because he waited and then checked again. HOLY SHIT. I was so scared I couldn't even scream because even in those brief seconds thoughts came flying at me. If he wants to kill me and I scream I am going to die because that man is only feet away from me. So as my heart raced and my thoughts soared I had to make a plan. What was I going to do? In seconds I had decided not to scream and to run for my door once I was at my door I would run up two flights of stairs and wake my dad. I felt like I only had seconds because if this man was there to rob us and had a weapon he may use it on me if I feel the need to confront him. So I ran. I ran to my door. I proceeded up the stairs, taking 3 stairs at a time, my heart racing; I have never ran that fast up the stairs in my life.
By the time I reached my dad I was out of breath, scared for my life and inarticulate. MAN.IN. MY.WINDOW. After a few minutes I had calmed down enough to explain and although he could tell I was shaken he had a really hard time believing me. Even to this day I think my dad still brushes the event off. He thinks it was one of my brother's friends. I know it wasn't. I have that man's face burnt into my memory for the rest of my life. It was not a friend of my brothers, it was not some one from school. It was a man, about 5'10", white blond with dark features, large eyebrows and no real expression. I could point him out in a line up even today, eleven years later.
I wish we had called the police. I mean what on earth was a person doing walking around our house in the middle of the night on one of the rainest nights we had that summer? Was he attracted to the light I had on? It seems to me it had to be deliberate because my parents house is neither on a main road or next to any other houses. Was that the first time? I know it was the last because the next day my dad took me to get blinds for my window.
After that I spent a lot of time sleeping on the floor of my parents bedroom. I never really felt safe sleeping by myself next to a window after that. The experience still shakes me when I am alone in our home or after I watch something scary. Talk about burning an image into my mind. Even writing this entry makes me shake. I hope I never have to face the man in the window again.
That night was no different. I went out with friends until 10 or so then headed home, chatted with my mom for a little bit and then proceeded to read. Sometime after 1 am I needed to readjust my position and in doing so something had caught my eye out the window. I froze. My heart began racing. OH.MY.GOD. Was that what I think it was? A man staring at me through my window just a mear 2 feet away. No way, I thought. My mind must have playing with me. I waited. The man, I think, was as surprised as I was because he waited and then checked again. HOLY SHIT. I was so scared I couldn't even scream because even in those brief seconds thoughts came flying at me. If he wants to kill me and I scream I am going to die because that man is only feet away from me. So as my heart raced and my thoughts soared I had to make a plan. What was I going to do? In seconds I had decided not to scream and to run for my door once I was at my door I would run up two flights of stairs and wake my dad. I felt like I only had seconds because if this man was there to rob us and had a weapon he may use it on me if I feel the need to confront him. So I ran. I ran to my door. I proceeded up the stairs, taking 3 stairs at a time, my heart racing; I have never ran that fast up the stairs in my life.
I wish we had called the police. I mean what on earth was a person doing walking around our house in the middle of the night on one of the rainest nights we had that summer? Was he attracted to the light I had on? It seems to me it had to be deliberate because my parents house is neither on a main road or next to any other houses. Was that the first time? I know it was the last because the next day my dad took me to get blinds for my window.
After that I spent a lot of time sleeping on the floor of my parents bedroom. I never really felt safe sleeping by myself next to a window after that. The experience still shakes me when I am alone in our home or after I watch something scary. Talk about burning an image into my mind. Even writing this entry makes me shake. I hope I never have to face the man in the window again.