That Night

I remember that terrifying night, when the world that was mine shattered, like a fallen fragile Christmas ornament. That night I was fine, sleeping somewhat soundly next to the woman I loved, and in the same room that my first born was lying in his crib. I remember the cool air in our room, that cruel summer night. I will always remember the night of the fifth, when I was awoken from my peaceful slumber to the sound of glass as it burst from it's window frame, followed by the thudding of footsteps falling in the hall. I still shudder and shake when I here the sound of footfalls. I slowly sat up in my exhaustion and reached for the gun I always keep under the bed. That was when I remembered that my weapon was being borrowed by a friend on a hunting trip. So instead I reach for the lamp on my bedside table. I walked over to the door and cracked it open, making it creak loudly. I then heard the hurried footsteps of someone trying to hide, followed by silence. I walked out into the dark hall to see the door to the bathroom open. The broken window made the the moon shine like a spotlight on the open door, and I instantly assumed the intruder was hiding in their. I jumped I front of the door frame and threw the lamp, hoping to catch the person off guard, but all I got was a broken lamp. Suddenly I felt the push of a foot on the small of my back, propelling me into the restroom. I jerked around only to be greeted with the slam of a door. I watch as the door knob jerked around, telling me that the person was holding the handle. I grabbed it just to pull it off of the door. I remember the worry I felt as I tried to pound the door open that night. I will also never forget the sounds of gunshots and the screams of my wife. I spent hours hammering that door trying to break it open. It was nearly morning by the time I was able to get through. I knew it was to late but I called the hospital anyways. I not only lost my wife that night, but my baby as well. I will never forget that bloody sight, nor the feelings of sadness and anger that were felt that night. My heart aches at the memory of the sounds of anguish in my cries that night. My life was altered for the worst that night, and will always hate the intruder.

As well as the night.