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In the corners, in the dark, who knows what waits for us.   

BAM!  BAM!  BAM!  BAM!  BAM!  

I jump and crawl to the front door on all fours.  I take a firm grip on the knife handle and ready myself to fight.  My gun is in my bedroom.  It is too far away to get to if they kick the door open.


I jump.  But I do not move and let them know that I am inside.  If they know I am inside they will know I am alone.  They will come in and take me.  I have my ear to the door.  It is quiet.  Are they tricking me?  Are they gone this time?  I am not going outside to take a chance.  What if they grab me?  My family would have no idea where I was.  They would not know where to look for me.  Right now I do not know where they are.

I went to work one day and came home and they were gone.  I have not seen them or heard from them since.  I cannot ask anyone.  I do not know who is friendly, who is not.  I do not know who is in on their disappearance.  That is why I have kept up my schedule without taking a break.

I go to work.  I go to the grocery store.  I go about my activities just as I have before.  I keep my eyes open and ears listening.  Someone, somewhere, is going to slip up and say where my family is.

Right now I have to keep looking normal even when things around me are changing.  People are spying on me.  Many people in my neighborhood are new to me.  But they pretend that they have known me for a while.  But I know what they are doing.

They are waiting for the right moment to grab me.  Then, no one will ever hear from me.  And, they do not know that I know they’re watching me.

I will give you an example.  I checked out my front door one night.  The front door lock looked different.  Its color is still dark silver.  The design is the same.  But it looks newer.  There should have been scrapes on it or some markings from my family’s keys, from us fumbling to get the key in the keyhole.  That is what I expected to see.  But I cannot say that I had noticed any scrapes or markings on it before.  Maybe the lock was scratch-resistant.  Or, maybe it is what I think.

Someone changed it.  Why?  I don’t know.  And how can my key still fit the lock?  They must have changed it to a lock that fits many different keys.

That would mean they are gaining access to my house while I sleep.  Are they letting themselves in while I am at work?  Are they searching through my things while I am away?  What are they looking for?  Why did they target me?  What could I have that they want?  Why have these people invaded my privacy?  Are they waiting on the perfect moment to kidnap me?

I do not want to disappear into the night where no one can find me.  I need to protect myself.  Maybe I should call the police?  But what will I tell them?  I have no proof of anything out of the ordinary.  They will think I am psychotic and lock me away.  And that would mean they were in on it.

I cannot call the police.  I am going out of mind trying to think of who is stalking me—FBI, CIA, another intelligence agency?  What do they want from me?  They probably know my every move.  I must go on the offense.  Who can I hire to check my home for listening devices or cameras?  I am not going down sitting still.  They may think that since I am a woman that I cannot protect myself.

Tonight, I will sleep on the floor beside my bed again with the knife and gun in my hands.  And when those intruders sneak into my home tonight, I will stab them and put them in the basement with the other three intruders.

I miss my husband and two daughters.  I have not seen them in two days.  I suspect the intruders have taken them.


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