The Ambler Chainsaw Massacre
Everyone hears those horror stories where the young girl is home alone and there is a murderer in the house trying to kill her. Every kid is told not to answer the door or the phone when they are the only ones in the house. And movies upon movies have been made where the plot revolves around a guy with a chainsaw who comes to the neighborhood. I never thought that anything bad could happen to me while living in Ambler, but on a dark night in seventh grade, my beliefs would be tested.
It was about seven o’clock at night. I had stayed home from school the past few days because I had a serious sore throat. My parents were at my brother’s basketball game and my sister was at her dance class. I was home alone, free at last! So, I turned the TV on, sat back, and relaxed. Everything was fine until I heard a creaking sound. The noise came from up the stairs and it sounded as though someone had opened a door. “It’s nothing,” I told myself. But I thought if I heard it again, I would leave the house.
Everything went back to normal for a few minutes. But just as my heart was settling down again, it sped back up as another noise hit my ears. This time, there was definitely someone lurking about upstairs. I got up, turned the TV off, and tip-toed as lightly as I could to my front door, hoping whoever it was that had broken into my house could not hear me. My heart was pounding. My mind was running in a million different directions. I thought I was reaching the end of my life. That was it. That was how I was “gonna go”. Then I heard the feet racing down my back steps. I could not stand it anymore. I pulled my front door open and ran as if there was no tomorrow. I didn’t stop until I reached my neighbors front door and when she opened up, all I said was, “I think there is someone in my house.” My heart was still going a mile a minute as my neighbor ushered me inside and told me to relax and watch TV.
I was replaying everything that had just happened in my mind when my neighbor walked into the room. What she said next would forever hold in a place in my memory. “It was your brother.”
When my parents had said that they were going to a basketball game, I assumed it was my brother’s. But no, it was not his basketball game. At this point, I was very embarrassed and wanted to sprint out of the room like I had done a few minutes ago when I had been convinced that I was about to be chopped up by a chainsaw. I took my walk of shame back to my house, and although I was humiliated beyond my understanding, I looked on the bright side: that sprint gave me a nice little workout.
Filed by Mr. Hillman at March 31st, 2008 under Humiliations, Embarrassments and Huh?!?
