On A Night Like This

My fingers trembled as I reached for my phone on the nightstand. I brushed against something cold and sharp – my car keys, unmistakably. Inching forward, I squinted into the darkness, straining to discern the looming shapes. This wasn't the night for Andrew to be on the night shift. The sudden blackout puzzled me. Had he forgotten to pay the electricity bill again? My hand finally touched the rubbery edge of my phone case. I grabbed it, unlocked the device, and hastily turned on the flashlight. Its glow lit the room, revealing my slippers.

Beyond the windowpane, rain hammered persistently, accompanied by a distant growl of thunder. I used to love the rain, but tonight it felt different – scary. I located my slippers by the door, slipped them on, and cautiously stepped into the hallway. The flashlight's beam illuminated the ZESCO meter, its screen lifeless. The power outage created an unsettling atmosphere. Suddenly, a door slammed shut. Could it be Andrew? Glancing at my phone, I saw it was 3:00 AM – an unusually early return for him after a night shift.

"Babe, are you there?" I called out, my voice almost swallowed by the surrounding storm.

A brief flash of light from outside momentarily brightened the hallway. A tall figure emerged at the end, holding a knife.

Frozen in place, I fought back fear's grip. My voice was silenced by the howling wind and rain, screaming would be pointless.

Step by step, the intruder advanced. Panic urged me back to my room, where I slammed the door shut and locked it, my thoughts racing. I needed to strategise. "Hey Google!" I commanded, shoving the bed against the door while the intruder pounded on it. "Call Andrew!" My voice pierced through the chaos.

"Calling Andrew," my phone acknowledged. In this critical moment, technology became an ally. I rifled through drawers, driven by my phone's glow, searching for a means of defense.

"Hello?" Andrew's voice came from the phone.

"There's an armed intruder in the house!" I screamed as if my very survival depended on it.

"What?" Andrew's disbelief echoed through the line.

The intruder banged on the door even harder, making me feel like something really bad was about to happen.

"He wants to kill me!" My tears flowed freely. The drawers yielded nothing. I relied on the phone's light to guide me around the room.

"Check my bedside table," Andrew instructed urgently. A closing door on his end indicated his immediate action. "There's a loaded gun in a small box. I'm on my way."

Turning to his bedside table, my trembling hands opened the drawer, revealing a gleaming box. I took it out, my heart racing. "I found it."

"Use it," Andrew's directive cut through, firm and resolute. "I'm not losing you tonight."

At last, the door gave way, crashing to the floor. The intruder leapt onto the bed. My grip tightened around the gun, and I aimed, my finger pulling the trigger. The loud bang echoed, and the gun's kick surprised me.

The intruder collapsed onto the bed. My breath came in ragged gasps as I stood in shock.

I'm not sure how long it was until Andrew rushed in, relieving me of the weapon, wrapping me in his arms. I felt confused, trying to understand what just happened. The police came, but I was too shocked to answer their questions. Andrew took me to a different room once the intruder was gone and the door was fixed.

"You were amazing," Andrew's voice carried a mixture of pride and relief.

From that night onward, I was forever changed.