A Story by Olivia Capri

A short story I wrote sometime last year. This is what happens when you are left home alone in the middle of the night.




"Time and time again I have told you to stop being such a pain," my sister Crystal said to me.

You would think she would get tired of tormenting me and always screaming at me. Our parents are out tonight and she has to babysit me. I am only three years younger than her; I don't understand why she becomes queen of the house when my mom and dad aren't home.

"Emily," she yells at me. What can she possibly want? I left the room only two minutes ago.

"What do you want?" Mrs. I get everything because I'm sixteen.

"Get me a soda," She has got to be kidding me.

"Go get your own dang soda," I yelled back at her. If she feels like she is going to treat me like a slave than welcome to the club, sister.

Tonight is any regular night for my sister and me. Of course the month is October and my parents leave a lot during this month for parties and such. My sister doesn't believe in all of the 'Halloween' stuff. I think it's quite fun thinking that ghosts and witches are among us. I, of course, know that it's not true though. The only thing close enough to ghosts is demons, and they are frightening enough for me.

We live on a hill at the end of our street. Many people like to call it the haunted house during Halloween, but there isn't much that's haunted about it. We have an attic, basement, and four bedrooms. Our house is two stories and there is a beautiful view from the wrap around balcony. We decorate for Halloween, so people aren't disappointed when they don't see the haunted house they were expecting. Next week is Halloween and I am very excited. This year I plan to stay home and hand out candy. My parents will be at another party and my sister will be, well probably with her whack-o friends.

I should probably go outside and turn on our Halloween lights. It's getting pretty dark, and living on a hill, in a big house, and going outside in the dark, is a bit creepy.

I went onto the front porch and found the big gray outlet box. I tugged on the orange extension cord that is connected to all of the lights we have hung all over the house. I pushed it into the socket and our front yard was illuminated by the bright oranges, yellows, greens, and purples. We definitely have the best looking yard on the street, if not in the whole neighborhood.

I went to go back inside when I heard something move in the bushes on the perimeter of our yard. Because I was already spooked by coming outside in the dark I swung around on the balls of my feet to catch the thing that was trying to give me a heart attack. I couldn't see anything. I thought I could see a faint outline of a person crouched behind the bush, but I ignored that thought and put it off as my eyes playing tricks on me, but just in case I walked swiftly inside and locked the dead bolt behind me. I could hear my sister's radio as I walked up the stairs.

By now my heart had picked up speed and I was a little jumpy. I went around the house locking every window, door, and double checking that they were securely locked.

"Calm down Emily. You are scaring yourself for no reason," I told myself. I sat on the couch in the living after closing the blinds and turned on the television. I skimmed the channels only to be disappointed that nothing worth watching was on. I sunk deeper into the couch and pulled a blanket over me. The clock on the mantle read half-past ten. It was a bit early to be going to sleep on a Friday night, but I didn't have anything better to do.

I woke up to the sound of a crash. I had been asleep for but half an hour. Was I hearing things again? I knew I wasn't when I heard my sister's music go off and she started screaming. At first they were blood curdling screams. I was frozen in fright. Once I had contained myself enough I sunk down onto the floor. The stairs to the second floor were just in my view. My sister's screams were now being muffled like someone had their hand over her mouth. My mind was swarming with the possibilities if what was happening to my sister. Tears began streaming down my face, silent but horrified tears. I pulled my phone out of my back pocket and called 911.

"Please state your emergency and your name," I heard a lady say.

"Emily. There is someone in my house, and I think they are hurting my sister," I whispered as more tears fell from my eyes.

"Where do you live?" the lady said more urgently now.

"3962 Kenneth drive. I live in the big house at the end of the street." I whispered again. The noises coming from upstairs were now even more frightening. I heard a slapping sound and then a thud. Then I heard two voices. The one voice was strained with fear and the voice cracked when it spoke. That would be my sister. The other voice was gruff and hard. That must be the man who broke in.

"How old are you, and who is in the house with you?"

"My sister is sixteen and I am thirteen. We are home alone." I answered fighting to keep my voice from quivering.

"Help is on the way. Get out of the house and run, maybe to a neighbor's house."

I hung up. There is no way I am leaving my sister with this man.

I turned off the television so I could hear more clearly. I heard my sister's voice first.

"Get away from me; take all the stuff in the house you want, just leave me alone." I heard her plead and cry.

Then the gruff voice answered her, “Where is your sister. I know she's in here." Then I heard another slap and a thud. I didn't want the realization to hit that my sister was being beaten.

"No, no one else is here, but me." My sister said.

All I could feel towards my sister was gratitude. She was trying to save me, but how would this person even get the clue that I was here in the first place. My mind swarmed, and my stomach lurched. I know why he knows that I’m here. The picture of the shadow crouched behind the bush popped into my head. He knew I was here because he saw me. Oh my God!

There has to be something I can do. Dad has a gun. He keeps it locked in a box under his bed. My parent’s room comes right before Crystal's room. Maybe I can sneak up there and break the lock on the gun and help my sister.

"God help me," I silently prayed.





















My legs began to numb from kneeling in front of the staircase. The man and my sister hadn't made any more noises and I couldn't hear them talking. My nerve kept going down as the seconds ticked by. I had an inkling of an idea that I might die.

I have to keep my head in the game. I laughed silent and coldly. High School Musical is the last thing that my mind should be capable of thinking about.

My hand was curled tightly around a steak knife from the drawer in the kitchen. I was willing to do anything if it came down to it, not that I really want the death of someone on my conscious, psycho murderer or not.

I looked down at the knife and saw my knuckles popping out from my hand. I couldn't put it off much longer. I slowly crept up the stairs. My heart was pounding and I wasn't sure if they could hear it from upstairs. I wouldn't doubt if they could. I felt very sick and I began to lose my balance.

"This is no time to lose your head," The little voice in the back of my head told me.

I wanted to scream and get out of the house as quickly as possible, but that wasn't really an option. I made it to the last step and peered over to my sister's room. The door was closed and I could see a light shining through the crack under the door.

My mind was racing. What if the guy has a gun? What if Crystal has been kidnapped? That could be why I hadn't heard anything. Why aren't the police here yet? What time will mom and dad be home? Is Crystal okay? What if he's hurting her in more than one way? I shuddered at that thought.

I then heard movement inside Crystal's room. Thank God! Relief washed over me. However, my flood of relief vanished when the door opened, and once again I was filled with pani. I ran across the hall into my parent’s room and underneath the bed. This was reminding way too much of the horror film I saw last week with my friends, Prom Night.

Those floodgate bursts open another flood of questions, but I didn't have time for questions. I saw men's feet and my sister being dragged into my parent's room. I covered my mouth so I wouldn't scream. More tears ran down my face and I shouted silent words of prayer for God to help Crystal.

I then remembered the gun. I rolled onto my side, slowly. I hadn't made a noise yet. I found the brown leather box and once again slowly brought it forward. Then I stopped and listened.

The man had apparently pulled my sister onto the bed and he was standing at the front end looking at her. I wanted to take my knife and drive it into his foot or ankle. I hadn't realized how hostile I could be. Then I heard him speak while my sister whimpered and choked on her tears.

"Shut Up," he yelled at her. Why hadn't he gone downstairs and tried to find me yet?

I hadn't the slightest answer to any of my questions.

I heard him call my sister some very inappropriate words and a fountain of profanity followed his words. I hadn't the clue what half the words he called her were, but apparently she did because she cried louder. I then heard him say ow and laugh.

"You think throwing a shoe at me will prevent me from killing you and your sister," he laughed again.

"What do you want from us?" Crystal asked, slurring her words together.

I closed my ears not wanting to hear. I counted to ten and wiped the tears that were flowing freely down my face.

I took my hands from my ears just in time to hear Crystal's breathing gradually get heavier and I heard her scream. This scream wasn't like the first piercing one. She know knew what this person was going to do to us. This scream made my heart break and fresh, hot tears blurred my vision.

While she screamed I took the opportunity to break the lock on the box. It broke into pieces on my third try to mutilate the thing. I opened the lid slowly as to not give away my location. Inside was a small, black shiny handgun. Within that gun I saw freedom from this freak and salvation for my sister.  

With the knife in my left hand and the gun hidden securely in my pocket I screamed. I let all of my furry and pain and fright and hatred ring lose in this one shriek. I watched the man kneel down onto the floor. I squirmed out from under the bed to the other side. I wouldn't allow myself to look at my sister.

I wouldn’t be able to handle seeing her. My imagination had already conjured up a gruesome image. I held the knife out shakily in my hand. The man stood and I got to see him for the first time.

He was tall and masculine. He had no facial hair, and he seemed to be at least twenty-seven years old. He had short to the head black hair and he grinned at me and put his hands up.

"Are you really planning on killing me with a knife?" he asked with a grin. He obviously was enjoying tormenting my sister and now he was looking forward to tormenting me.

I could feel my sister glaring at me, but she didn't dare say a word about my appearance.

"N-n-n-oo," I said shakily. I then cleared my throat. I closed the door to my parent’s bedroom. He wasn't going to escape. Not on my watch.

"Then why don't you put down that knife and we can talk about this rationally."

"There isn't anything to talk about," I spit through my teeth, “you already made that decision when you broke into my house and hurt my sister." My voice faltered on the word hurt.

He was still smiling, but his eyes looked crazed. I saw him pull a knife out of his pocket and take one step towards me.

"So then, are we going to kill each other?" he asked me still smiling, “I would hate to kill such a pretty girl like you."

I swallowed and let my bluff continue. My knife clattered to the floor in front of me. He seemed to be falling for it. He put his knife back in his pocket and stepped toward me again.

Mistakenly I looked at Crystal. I instantly regretted it. She had bruises all over her arms and her face. She wasn't wearing anything but her big over sized t-shirt that she wears to bed. It had slits in it and her face was covered in little cuts. Her hair stuck to her face like she had been sweating, and her hands were bound together at her back. She looked at me and began to cry. She closed her eyes in pain. I cringed at her appearance and fell to the floor.

"Em," Crystal whispered.

"Shut Up," he yelled at her and I saw him walk over to her and slap her across the face. Then he walked over to wear I stood and crouched down to my level.

"Now, why don't you and I go down to your bedroom?" he asked tauntingly.

He was leaning over me and I slowly pulled the gun out of my back pocket. He grabbed the arm that was in view and pulled me up to my feet to drag me out of the room.

I pulled the gun out and put it to his head like I had see done a thousand times before in movies. He stopped dead in his tracks, no trace of a smile anywhere on his lips.

"Don't do anything you'll regret," he said sounding more pleadingly.

"Let go of my arm," I said through my gritted teeth. He instantly dropped my hand.

I clicked the safety on the gun and he began pleading with me.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he said again and again. This time it was my turn to tell him to shut up. He stopped immediately.

We stood there like that for a few minutes. I listened to the ragged off- beat breathing of Crystal. Finally I heard the sound I'd been waiting to hear all night, a siren raging off in the distance.

"You're not going to shoot me. You're going to wait for the police to come and get Me." he said and then began to laugh.

 My bluff was beginning to falter. He moved away from the gun and picked up the knife I had dropped on the floor. He headed for the window. He looked back at us and smiled. Before he could move another inch I pulled the trigger.

I don't know where it hit him because just then he fell backwards out the window. I couldn't move. What if I had killed him, but no longer did I care any bit for this man's life. After seeing Crystal how could I?

The gun shot made me jump back in fear, and I saw Crystal's eyelids flutter open. I ran to the window and peered through the bushes. The man was sprawled out on the grass, but that's all I could see in the dark night.

I watched from the window as the man was pulled into one of the two ambulances that had come. I heard the door clang open downstairs. An officer called for someone to answer.

"Upstairs," was all I could croak before I fell to the floor again.

I heard the officer run up the stairs, thud thud, thud. I heard a gasp as I assumed he saw Crystal, and then he saw me leaning against the window.

I am sure I was a sight to see. A young girl curled into a ball rocking back and forth staring at a gun that lay in front of her.

I vaguely heard the man call on his radio for paramedics and he walked over to me.

"Are you Emily?" the officer asked in a gruff tone.

All I could do was nod. My voice had left me. I could barely think straight.

"Emily, can you tell us what happened?" the officer asked.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I don't think I can do much of anything right now. I nodded my head no.

"Can you stand up?" he asked more urgently. I slowly stood and he led me to the door. I looked at the empty bed and started screaming.

"Your sister is in an Ambulance," he began, but after I started screaming I couldn't stop. I was vaguely aware when he carried me down the stairs and into the ambulance that Crystal lay in. When I saw her again I began wailing. Tears gushed from my face and the screams turned into sobs.

We were taken to the hospital. Crystal was immediately taken to the emergency room. The same officer sat next to me in the waiting room, holding me steady and letting me cry. 

The tears finally let up and I felt like I would never be able to cry again. My face was all sticky and red with exhaustion. 

"Emily, are you okay now?" he asked me.

I looked at him with no emotion and replied, "No, I'll never be okay, but I can answer your questions if you need me to."

"Okay," he looked at me wearily and we made it to the parking lot so I could be interrogated.

"Emily, what happened?"

"A man broke into my house. My parents were at a party. He broke in and raped and beat my sister. I took a knife and went up to my parent’s room to get the gun that my dad keeps locked in a box under his bed. I pretended like I didn't have the gun and somewhere in between all that I called 911. I don't really remember the order in which these events took place. Anyway, he was going to make a break for it so I shot the gun in his direction not really aiming at any particular place. Then you came and now I'm here." I broke on many words, but no emotion was left in me, not really.

"Okay Emily, thank you," officer said. I then saw the doctor come out. I ran up to him.

"Is my sister okay?" I asked with pain. I guess I do have emotion left, just not any happy emotion. I forgot what that feels like.

"Your sister has suffered a lot." the doctor began.

"I know that, but is she going to be okay," I asked with frustration and anger.

"She has a severe case of trauma and she has a very bad blow to the head, but we believe she will be fine."

I sighed in relief, wait new emotion. Maybe they are coming back to me, slowly but still.

"What about the man who..." I couldn't say anymore, and I had to force the word man out. I had many other words that wouldn't begin to describe that 'thing'.

The doctor looked at me wearily, "I'm not really supposed to release any information on other patients..." he began," but I will tell you this. You shot him in his leg where a major vein is located. We haven't yet seen if the bullet punctured it though.

When he said that, I felt a glimmer of satisfaction and then felt sick because I was happy he might die. Dear God, please help me. I am not sure what to do. Amen

"Where are my parents," I asked when the doctor walked away.

"We didn't have a way of notifying them. You weren't talking." the officer said.

"Oh, this is their cell number." I gave him my cell phone after dialing the number.

My parents arrived in the next five minutes. My dad was cursing at the people for not notifying them earlier and my mom held me and another downpour of tears flowed freely.

I looked at the hospital clock and it read 10:45. I had to look again to make sure that it was right.

"Daddy, is that clock right," I asked gesturing to the wall.

"Yes honey," dad said confused.

How could all of this have happened in forty-five minutes? My brain couldn't take much more and I was out the next second. 

© 2009 Olivia Capri

Author's Note

Olivia Capri
Don't be afraid to leave constructive criticism, but of course, I would also like to hear what you liked about the story too. Please let me know if you think I should write more. Thanks!!!

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Heck yes! Nice shooting, Em!!

However, I think you should have mentioned why he wanted to kill her so much, or maybe stopped it when the 911 people arrived--the explanation just tones down the excitement.

Criticism-ish enough?

Posted 13 Years Ago

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Added on April 1, 2009


Olivia Capri
Olivia Capri

To you, I will be known as Olivia Capri. My favorite color is green, and I could read and write all day every day. The perfect day would include waking up at eight in the morning, going horseback ridi.. more..