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Everything hurt.
Her chest hurt. Hands shaking, gasping for breath.
A tiny voice tried to get her to focus, but that just wasn’t about to happen.
Downstairs, she could hear more glass shatter. Another loud thunk as something heavy had fallen over. Voices she didn’t recognize carrying up the stairway, just barely audible to her, hidden in the crawl space that her dad had built for her when they moved in.
She wasn’t supposed to be home. No one was supposed to be home. She had come back for fall break from college, only remembering when she was dropped off by her Uber that her family was out of state for the weekend for a tournament her little brother was in. Instead of flying back to Palo Alto and spending the week with her friends and girlfriend, she decided to stay in the house and spend the week catching up on some shows and having unrestricted access to her brother’s PS5 (with his permission, of course).
The first day and night had been fine. Same with the second day. But now into the night…
She had woken at the sound of shattered glass. It sounded the same as when her ex had broken a window during their breakup in their dorm, which had ended with him kicked out of school. As soon as it registered in her sleep-fogged mind, she’d crept out into the hallway, only to hear voices that she didn’t recognize. There were people in the house. There were people who didn’t belong in her house.
In that moment, once that realization became clear in her head, she had rushed as quietly as possible back into her room, grabbed her phone and crawled into her crawlspace. Her hand was already shaking as she dialed 9-1-1.
She tried to focus on the female voice on the other end of the call. She’d given her address, whispered almost silently in the hopes that the intruders wouldn’t hear her. The person said that the police were on the way but for her to stay on the line and keep them updated.
Just as that instruction came through, there was a creak in the hallway. The landing had a creaking floorboard. Someone was coming upstairs. Someone was already upstairs.
The phone slipped from her bloodless hand. Fear was holding her hostage now, sending her spiraling into panic, wondering if her last brief call to her family was going to be the last time they heard her voice. Her thoughts spun while her body shook. She willed herself to be still, but her body wasn’t listening to her mind.
Just as her vision started to blacken, the door swung open. She opened her mouth to scream… only to see a badge. And uniform. A flashlight filled the tiny space with bright light.
A female officer knelt down in front of her. “Alexis? My name is Sergeant Grant. Let’s get you out of here.”
The officer helped her crawl out of the space and stand. She was still trembling, the aftereffect of a panic attack. An arm wrapped around her shoulders, carefully guiding her out of her room and through the busted front door, clearly opened by the police when they arrived.
Outside, the flashing lights blinded her, keeping away the darkness of night. She was carefully led over to a waiting ambulance when she heard voices yelling her name. Out of the corner of her eye she saw her mother and father and baby brother all cutting through the crowd to get to the police line, to get to her.
Another official, a firefighter, gestured to let them through. Her mother reached her first, holding her tightly, with her father and brother hugging around them both.
The last of the panic receded from her chest. She was safe.