Home sick

You wake up with goose bumps all over your back. Your neck feels like it was used to fry the hamburgers for breakfast. Your eyes are itching and you want to keep them closed. You know that you are home alone because your parents are out of town on a business meeting. You put on your house slippers, go to the phone and call the school attendance office. You tell the sweet lady “My son, Craig, is out sick with a high fever.” Your voice sounds like it is of forty years of age.

You head to the kitchen to swallow a bottle of Robitussin. You love the watermelon flavor and it makes you feel better instantaneously. You don’t feel like going to school and don’t want to deal with explaining why your “parents” called in sick when you are in fact in perfect shape at school. You grab your jacket and head outside. It is 68 degrees and sunny outside. It is a perfect day for a nice walk around the block. You head north because you know that if you head east you are going to have to deal with Mr. Wilson and his long disastrous talks about the Gulf War. You want to be alone. You don’t want to get caught. You feel the breeze lift your hair and part it to the left side. You feel like you are gliding on the pavement. You watch children pile onto the school bus and you smile to yourself. You get to relax today.

As you turn the block you see a man in black checking out a house. You freeze. You feel the sweat start to swarm you. You realize that it is your house that he is peeking into. You hide behind the tree, eying him. You look around. You see no one. It is just you and the robber. You peek even more and try to find Mr. Wilson. Maybe he can help you with his Gulf War skills. You are scared.

You take a deep breath. You say a little prayer. You open your eyes to see the robber climbing into the downstairs window. You take furious steps towards your house. You open your front door and get your cell phone near the kitchen table. You hear furniture being thrown around. You sneak back outside and you call 911. They tell you emergency services are being contacted and you should stay safe. You think to yourself: “What is downstairs?” You have an “ oh shit” moment. You left your parent’s safe open after you took 100 dollars to buy yourself dinner for the week. You see a lacrosse stick. You take it. You put on your gear and you rush downstairs. You yell like a Native American hoping for rain. You attack him from behind and he falls. You hear the police outside. The man tries to get away but you slice him with your stick. The police come. They take him away. You call your parents. Your parents are coming home.