I could see the shadows passing under the closet door. I closed my eyes and tried not to breathe.

At 7:13 tonight the door was smashed in and three men entered the house. I was up in my room when this happened. I heard several gunshots and closed myself in the closet. For three years I had meant to clean my closet and now I thanked the Lord that I hadn’t.

As I heard the footsteps coming up the stairs I crawled into the corner and buried myself in crap — paper, clothes I hadn’t worn in years, stuffed animals. It was up past my head. I sat and I wept silently as I heard them rummaging through my room. I hoped beyond hope they wouldn’t open my top drawer. I heard the TV hit the ground and then I heard it. They found it.

My only hope was that it didn’t give them any ideas. I’d rather die than deal with a group of horny thugs.

A shadow passed the door and I stifled a gasp. I sat silently as the door opened and they looked in.

That familiar buzz was still going — please don’t let them see me…