by Jose Astorga

Created on: November 30, 2009

I could feel the blood dripping from my fingers, cold and lifeless. My shoulder felt like someone had take a bat to it, but the pain was numbing. I knelt there, tears pouring out of my eyes, trembling with fear and uncertainty. I was frozen in dread. The knife dangled from my fingers and all I could do was gaze at the lifeless and blood soaked body lying before me.

I could hear my daughter sobbing as she sat on the floor cross legged. Through the corner of my eye, I could see the blood stains on her pajamas. I wasn't able to stand yet, but as I slowly turned my head, the silhouette of the two bodies behind her spread on the floor was clearly visible in the penetrating moonlight.

There were three of them probably no older than their mid twenties. Their lives had been cut short by a bad decision.

They broke into the wrong home.

I was awakened by a muffled sound and I immediately felt overwhelming fear and a sense of immediate danger. I was scared to death. I am a bad sleeper, and on occasion I am prone to fits of paranoia but, for the most part, I keep it under control. Tonight was different.

I glanced at the clock and it was exactly 1:59AM. I thought crap, I don't want to die. Not like this. I slid out of bed quietly and grabbed the serrated knife underneath my mattress. A very sharp knife, it has handles like brass knuckles and the four inch blade curves upwards. An extreme weapon of choice but I was initially attracted to it by its portability and efficiency of design. I could clock you and slice you almost concurrently.

As quietly as I could, I dialed 911 and whispered to the woman that answered the phone to send the cops because I would be killed within the next few minutes. I placed the phone down on the bed without hanging up.

My daughter's bedroom is next to mine and her door was closed. I decided not to wake her and let the chips fall where they may. I reasoned that a panicked 12 year old would only be a hindrance at this stage in the game.

I trembled with fear, but managed to stiffly and quietly make my way down the hall way. I walked with both feet spread out and hugging the walls of the suddenly longest hallway so as to avoid the creaks in the old floor of this old house. As I got to the kitchen, I stopped and listened. One of the thieves was already in the house; I could hear the other two making their way in. My senses were tuned and on fire. My daughter's safety was my priority.

As I stood next to the refrigerator praying to

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