A storm was brewing outside and I was home alone. My father was on a business trip and my mother and sister were visiting my aunt who lived a few blocks away. I had insisted on staying at home because I had a test of Chemistry the next morning. From my window I could see gusts of wind swirling like an untamed ballerina. Angry gray clouds had gathered and were welcomed by booming thunder.
The relentless downpour continued as I tried unsuccessfully to focus on my Chemistry book. My eyes wandered to the window once more where I spotted a haggard looking man sheltering beneath a tree. I dismissed him as another homeless man and once more turned my attention to my book. Suddenly the light turned out. The timing of the power outage couldn’t have been worse.
Since I wouldn’t be able to get much studying done I decided to head downstairs to see if I could find a snack. Before my foot had touched the first step I heard a door being slammed loudly. Without waiting to find out how it happened I rushed back inside my room and locked it. My mind wandered to the homeless man whom I had seen from my window. I had heard enough stories about robberies and murders to make me want to hide under the bed.
I decided to call my mother but after rummaging in my bag I realized that I had left it in the living room downstairs. My heart began to beat faster with the thought that there may be an intruder in the house. There was no way I could escape from a window because it had bars across it. I looked around for a heavy object to throw at the intruder in case he tried to break into my room.
My haphazard scheming was rudely interrupted by a loud knock on my door. Without a moment’s hesitation, I picked up my bedside lamp and stood waiting. Instead of my door being broken down, I heard a familiar voice say:
“Minahil we’re home. Open the door.”
With a huge sigh of relief bordering on embarrassment, I put the lamp down. The voice belonged to my mother.