Special

My House Gets Ransacked

Hi. My name is Jimmy. I don't really know how to explain this, but I'll try to do it in the most uncomplicated way possible.

It all started a long time ago, around seven years. That was when my dad lived with us, when it was just me, my mom, and dad. My dad didn't have a job anymore, since he had been laid off. That wasn't very bad. The job paid a lot, so we had a ton of money. We weren't rich, but we weren't poor either.

Since my dad didn't have a job, that meant work for my mom. She only worked on the weekends, so it wasn't too bad. On the weekends, my dad and I would just hang around, playing games. This went on for a year, and nothing happened. But one weekend, dad seemed... distant. He would stay in his room most days, and even when he did come out, he would look dazed, and confused.

He would walk around mumbling random words that, most of the time, I didn't catch, words lost to the wind, words only dad knew. Even when I did hear some, it would sound like, "Garthok... Ramshnack," Like it was a different language. Then one day, dad came out of his disturbed state, and things were back to normal. Sure, sometimes he would get the occasional phone call, but other than that, things were fine. Perfectly and absolutely fine, I thought.

I just wish I knew how wrong I was.

One night, as I was trying to fall asleep, I heard shouting from my parents' secret room. I was told to NEVER go into that room. I took them seriously, but they decided to make a few security measures. The door was bolted and locked twelve times more than it should have been. Of course, that made me more curious, but I listened to my parents. I went downstairs and the shouting got louder. Soon I was in front of the door to the room. What I heard made me stop. It was the words dad was saying months ago, but there were more. Even more odd was that I could understand some of the words they were saying. I heard "Home" and "back" and my name, "Jimmy".

Then the shouting stopped. I heard footsteps coming closer to the door, and I booked it. I was in my bed pretending to be asleep, when dad came upstairs and checked in my room. He flicked the light on, checked on me, and after turning the light off, he left. The shouting started again. Then dad yelled at my mom, "Fine! You might not be leaving, but I am!" He didn't say it in English. He said it in that creepy language again. And I understood every word of it! Then I jumped out of bed, holding Baloo, my stuffed bear. I ran downstairs, and mom and dad were staring at me. "And just what do you think you are doing, Mister?" Mom said. "Go back to bed." I looked at dad and asked, "What were you screaming about?"

Dad looked at me and smiled warmly. "Don't worry, son. Just go back to bed." I listened to him, but I kept thinking about it. I did end up falling asleep though, but the next morning, disaster struck.

Dad, along with all of his belongings, were gone.

I don't remember much after that. Whenever I would ask mom where dad went, she would get that faraway look in her eyes, then an angry one. "He left. He liked doing drugs, and other bad stuff. He was always drunk, your dad. Then one day he got mad because I wouldn't let him buy anymore drugs or beer, and he left." And that was what I believed for the next five years, leading up to now.

I woke up this morning feeling exhausted, as I had every morning. I decided to occupy myself by reading my favorite book, Life On Zartrog by my favorite author, Steven T Johnson. I knew it wasn't true, because all books about aliens are fake. I just enjoyed reading it. I heard the clang of dishes and my mother's humming, like she did every morning while she made breakfast.

Halfway into chapter four of Life On Zartrog, I heard the doorbell ring. I didn't bother, because my mom was downstairs. Then I heard the door get kicked open. I dropped my book and leapt up from my bed. I peeked out of my room. There was nothing outside, so I crept to the top of the stairs and glanced out into the kitchen. Four men, all wearing black ski masks, were in my kitchen. I couldn't see my mother, so that meant she was unconscious, or worse. I grimaced. It hurt too much just at the thought of me losing both parents. 

Then they saw me. I ran back up to the room as I heard their footsteps behind me. I grabbed as much as I could, not forgetting Baloo or my copy of Life On Zartrog. I slammed the door shut and locked it to give myself as much time as possible. I ran over to the window. The only things I had was my emergency backpack filled with food, water, clothes, etc. I tried opening the window when I heard them reach my room door. The window was stuck! As they jammed themselves up to my door, I tried opening it again. Still stuck. I heard them ram into my door. Then I saw the problem. The window was still locked. I cursed, knowing that because of the "safety" locks my mom had installed on my window so that "no intruder could enter", I had lost precious time. As I undid the locks, They rammed against my door again.

Finally, the window opened. The door burst open right as I was lowering myself out of my window. "Get him!!" One of them shouted. I dropped from my window and ran.