There's someone in my house.
I sit bolt upright in bed listening to the noises coming from my kitchen. Dishes are clattering and it sounds like someone is going through the cupboards as door after door is opened then shut. There must be two of them as I can hear the pleather cushions squeaking in response to the movements of whomever was sitting there.
How am I hearing that?
Sliding out of bed, I searched for a weapon of some kind. Clothes were scattered all over the room in the order of wherever they fell. It was so bad that I couldn't remember what colour the carpet was.
The kitchen tap turned on, and it was a lightbulb moment. Slapping my forehead with the palm of my hand, I felt stupid and way too paranoid. How could I have forgotten about my visitors from last night. Quietly slid
