I was awoken to a dulled clanging from downstairs. At first, I dismissed it as our cat, Snoopy (and yes, named for irony). But when I heard him purring at the foot of my bed, I thrust the covers off my body, pushing my self so my torso was upright.

I heard footsteps coming from the direction of my parents bedroom. My father whizzed past my doorway. He must have heard the noise as well. As he realized that Ma was following him, he turned, whispering just loud enough for me to hear. "Honey, stay in bed, I'll be right back." But my mother, as always, in her stubborness continued down the hallway.

I swung my body out of bed, feeling the carpet beneath my bare feet. As I tiptoed to the hall. I continued to the top of the stairs.

"Stop!" I heard my father's stern voice. Then came an unfamiliar male voice that boomed throughout the whole home.

"Make me," I could almost hear the sly smile in his voice as he challenged Pa.

"Get away, or I'll call the police!"

I peaked downstairs, my father's hands just brushing over the phone on the wall. The strange man's face filled with humor. "You call and I'll shoot!" The gun was now aimed at my mother, paralyzed with fear. My father picked up the phone, testing the boundries.

Was this guy for real?

I heard the click as he readied to take fire. Pa put the phone down, and for the first time ever, I think I saw a flicker of fear with a mix of annoyance, shadow his face.

"Good," said the mystery man. As he aimed the gun toward the window. The shot fired, destroying the glass. Shards flew all over.

And as he walked away, a bag in hand, all I could hear was the glass shattering.

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