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Home Alone

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I was ten years old when I stayed home alone for the whole day for my very first time. I convinced my parents to let me stay home alone because I thought it would be fun. I thought I was big enough and that I could handle it. I was way wrong!

It was in the middle of the afternoon when they left. The sun was was high in the sky and I was happy that it was a Friday, and was looking forward to a weekend of no school. I reassured my parents that I would be fine without them and I went through the protocol of locking the doors and finding phone numbers to make sure I knew what to do if anything went wrong. I was confident and I felt grown-up that I could stay home alone

The whole afternoon I played outside and and I clearly remember how beautiful a day it was. The leaves of the tree were just beginning to turn and the air was crisp for the coming of winter. The sun was warm and inviting and I didn’t have a care in the world. It wasn’t until the sun started to go down and the air began to cool that I realized that being home alone wasn’t too great.

I went back inside and turned the T.V. on, hoping for a distraction from the the creaks the house was starting to make. No matter how loud I turned the T.V. up, the creaks seemed to get louder. I imagined monsters and murders watching me in the shadows. I was so scared that I sat on the couch for a half an hour deciding if I could make it up the stairs into my room to get into my pajamas. I had to actually mentally prepared myself. I ran as fast as I could up into my room, and turned every light on on the way. I sprinted into my room and threw off my clothes while fishing through my cluttered room for my favorite blue polka dot pajamas. I scrambled them on and ran down stairs thinking that a big green monster was behind me. I completely wiped out on the last step, but I ignored the pain and smashed into the couch, breathing rapidly. My heart seemed like it was going to jump right out of my chest.
I curled up into a ball and tried to concentrate on the T.V. A crime/detective show was on. It was about a murderer that would go into people’s houses and and would steal money and kill anybody inside. It was the worst possible show I could watch at that moment. I looked for the remote, but it was lost as usual. I could have gone up to the T.V. and changed the channel, but I would have to go by the stairs that lead down into the basement. The basement was the source of all the terrifying noises. Instead, I came up with a brilliant idea. I decided to get the baseball bat that was only in the next room.
I grabbed a magazine and rolled it up thinking that it could serve as a weapon just in case there was a serial killer lurking around a corner. I thought I saw something move out of the corner of my eye, so I slashed out my rolled up magazine, but I realized it was my own shadow. My face red with embarrassment of my stupidity, I dashed into the closet in the the next room and grabbed the bat. I ran back to the living room, of course tripping on ever rug and object on the way because I was so frightened. I leaped on the couch and held the bat tightly, thinking of my plan of how to use it just in case I needed it. I then heard a door slam.
My blood turn to ice and I couldn't move. I was so scared and numb that the bat would have been useless if I was actually attacked. If I would have been thinking, I would have remembered that my sister left her window open and the wind was gusting, but my brain was complete mush. After five minutes of shivering, I sprinted into the computer room and sprawled underneath the big desk. I was shaking so hard and I was certain that I would die that night. To make it worse, the coyotes around my house began to howl. I can’t remember how long I sat there under that desk, holding onto the bat for dear life. However, I gradually started to fall asleep. I guess I was so exhausted from all the fear from the long, scary day.
I woke up the next morning in my bed with the bright sun on my face. I was alive! My parents must have found me lying underneath the desk and carried me upstairs. The bat was lying next to me, and I knew that I would have to answer many questions when I had to confront my parents that morning. I hated to admit how I overreacted, but I was just happy to be alive.





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