He is in the house. I can hear him moving around downstairs.
I can’t remember when I first heard him trying to get in, but it feels like I’ve been hiding in this closet for hours. I can’t stop shaking.
At least I managed to grab a knife from the kitchen while I had the chance.
He’s coming. Dear God, he’s climbing the stairs.
This is it. I can’t stop shaking. He’s sure to find me here.
I can see the headlines now: ‘Man murdered in his own home’, ‘Maniac tortures and mutilates innocent victim’, ‘Bloodbath’, ‘Massacre’, ‘Slaughter’.
He’s on the landing. Oh Jesus, he must be just outside the bedroom!
Please God, give me the strength that I need to get through this. I just can’t stop shaking; but I mustn’t let out a breath or he’ll surely hear me.
Jesus Christ, this is it! I can see the papers: ‘Like scene from horror movie’, ‘Butchered with kitchen-knife’, ‘Intruder lay in wait.’
He’s opening the door. He’s here!
This is it… But I still can’t stop shaking… I’m far too excited. I’ve been waiting for him to get home for hours.