Just a few days ago for my abnormal psych class I had read about Ted Bundy. There's a creeper if there ever was one. So I was sitting downstairs thinking I was home alone, trying to study. But then I heard someone moving around upstairs. First, I try to tell myself I'm just imagining it. Then I called my sister to see if it's her. She doesn't answer so I knew she was at work. When I heard the footsteps again I knew I had to go upstairs and investigate. I dialed 911 on my phone and had my thumb over the send button—just waiting for a sign of the intruder. I crept silently up the stairs and peeked around the doorways before I went through them.
Then I hear, "Maurie, are you home?"
"MOM?! You scared the crap out of me!"
Turns out she'd stayed home from work because she was sick. But when you've just read about Ted Bundy your imagination goes to the worst. My mom also told me the next time I think there's an intruder, I should bring one of my brother's golf clubs upstairs with me when I go to investigate. Thanks for the tip, Mom! Haha