It was late at night when Sandra heard it.
At first, she thought she was still sleeping when she heard
the rustle again.
It was coming from the front door.
Her heart was thudding, feet heavy when she slid slowly from
the bed and quietly walked to the front door trying not to make a sound.
She listened as someone jiggled with her lock.
Someone was trying to break into her house.
This could not be happening to her.
She had to call for help.
Will the police get here fast enough?
Will they help her or will they find her lying on a pool of
her blood?
She turned around fast and quietly.
Her nightdress caught on the decorative mirror she places on
her credenza, and it came rushing towards the ground. Eyes widened, terrified
she watched as it hit the ground shattering on impact.
The noise outside her door stopped.
They knew she was aware they were there.
The jiggling became more hurried, so she ran back to her
room.
She had just closed the bedroom door behind her when her
front door crashed into the wall.
Ooh, My God, they were in her house, what was she going to
do?
Help she had to find help.
Abandoning the idea of calling the police, she opened her
bedroom window and jumped out.
Her naked feet hit the soft grass, and she started running
as soon as she was down.
She had almost made it to her neighbor’s house when she turned
around and saw them following her.
Picking up her pace, she made it to the neighbors front
door. She started banging on the door screaming for help.
Sandra looked back; they were gaining on her.
Would they open the door in time?
She had just turned to keep on running when the door opened
in front of her.
Mr. Riddick her neighbor stood there wearing pajamas looking
confused.
She pushed her way in and tried to tell him to close the
door very fast, but he was not fast enough.
Her senses on overload she made an escape through the back
door and managed to run to the police station to call for help.
Unfortunately by the time they made it back the thieves had
assaulted Mr. Riddick and fled the scene.
As she stood beside the cruiser crying, shocked, she watched
as Mr. Riddick was wheeled out in a body bag.
As soon as Mrs. Riddick saw her, she started screaming at
her that all this was her fault.
She was the one to blame; if she had not come to their
house, her husband would be alive.
Mr. Riddick died leaving behind two young boys, Jason and
Collins who she had taught since they were in kindergarten. She loved them like
they were her own.
She blamed herself.
If she had not knocked on the door, he would still be alive.
Jason and Collins would not know their dad because of her.
But Riddle me this was it her fault or was it fate?
She just wanted to survive, but sadly it cost someone else’s
life.
What do you think?
Leave us a comment below to tell us what you think.
That is all we have for you today, until next time adios.
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