Why does the lightning have to be so loud. I can’t hear myself think. I had been home for an hour and I couldn’t play on my guitar because of the stupid storm outside. It was 7:00 and I had just gotten back from the mall with Teresa and Rachel. I kept asking myself why it was raining in the middle of July, but then I remembered where I lived. Seattle, one of the rainiest cities in the country.
I hated it here and I just wished we could move back to Texas. I missed the sun and I had to go shopping for a whole different wardrobe because you can’t wear tank tops and shorts here, even in the summer. The only positive thing about living here was the fact that I had obtained two best friends over the past year. Even though we were completely different people, we all had the same interests.
I just realized that I’ve been complaining about stuff that probably means nothing to you and I haven’t even introduced myself. I’m Katrina Matthews, 16, and I’m a junior in high school. I like reading, playing guitar, and listening to music. I’m an only child and right now my parents are away. In Paris. Without me. I get that it’s their, like, 20th wedding anniversary, but they could’ve rented me a different room and brought me with them.
I know this makes me sound like an over privileged snob, but we’re rich. They could’ve spent a few extra hundred dollars to bring me with them. Instead of being in warm, sunny, beautiful Paris, I’m in humid, rainy Seattle.
Moving on, I’m home alone on a Friday night because my supposed best friends ditched me to hang out with their boyfriends. I heard the foreshadowing thunder and then the crash of the lightning. The good thing the lightning really lights up the living room. The bad thing is that same thing made the power go out.
I slowly stood up from the couch to try and find my phone before I had a panic attack. I swept my hands over the table in front of the couch until I felt the plastic case on my phone. I turned it on and my night got worse. 5%, great. My stupid phone is about to die and my room is two floors up. Isn’t this just the best night of my life. I hurried upstairs with the flashlight on my phone guiding me.
*Beep Beep* phone at 2%. As soon as I saw that I ran up the stairs to my room and plugged my phone in. I had just saved myself a lot of trouble. The lightning lit up the room again and I saw the flashlight sitting on one of the shelves. I sent silent praises to whoever was out there and grabbed it before making my way downstairs.
With a source of light I was finally able to find a phone. I tried to call Rachel and Teresa, but all I got was a dial tone. I cursed the storm that had turned off the power and wrecked the landline. I had to hurry downstairs to try and turn the power back on.
I slowly walked downstairs and stopped when I heard a crash from upstairs. Just assuming it was thunder I hurried down the stairs. I walked over to the breaker box and flipped the switch. Nothing happened so I turned to go back upstairs.
The lightning quickly illuminated the stairs and I saw a shadowy figure on the stairs. I tried to scream, but as soon as I opened my mouth they raced towards me and I saw the glint of a knife. I knew in the final fleeting moments of life that I wouldn’t be found until my parents got home. My corpse would rot and this guy would get away. In the night you never know what is to come, but sometimes you should truly be afraid.