• A noise brought me out of my restless sleep, in which I was having the oddest dream about having a tea party with dinosaurs. It was not the normal nightly noises; cars going by, dogs barking or the faith sound of crickets chirping. This sound was different, unnatural in the otherwise quiet suburban street. There was a click, or at least I think that's what it was, coming from the door in the entryway. My room was the nearest room to the door, a hallway running perpendicular to the entryway and lead to the other rooms in the house. Another click broke through the night and I immediately went with my instincts, I rolled over and began snoring. Though if somebody was really breaking into the house, I highly doubted if they would believe me to be the snoring type, being that I was 16, 5 feet 4 inches and 115 pounds. So I abruptly stopped my snoring and used my energy instead to listen in. I pulled my covers up to completely up as I heard the un-oiled hinges swing open. My heart pounded in my chest as the footsteps entered the hallway. I knew for a fact that everyone was in the house, my older sister in the room next to mine and my mine in the room across from her. The ominous sound of foreign footsteps echoed through the hallway and into my room where they danced a tango with my imagination; maybe it's a serial killer out for a new record on a killing spree and we were the 20th of the night, or maybe it was a cat burglar, out to steal millions in a single night, or maybe something far worse. But I did know it was something. The footsteps neared my room, getting louder as my heart did. Maybe it was just one of those creepy guys who watched people sleep, though entirely heart wrenching, it was the best option of the four. The footsteps stopped before my door. My heart nearly jumped out of my chest in sheer terror. Even if I had kept up with the snoring, I doubt I would have been able to substain it at this very moment. I clenched my eyes shut as the seconds stacked up. There was a slight click, then it sounded like something was being shoved into something else and then the footsteps continued down the hall. The sounds before reminded me of something, and my breathing excelled increasingly. Growing up, I had been taught how to handle guns, though my mother disproved naturally, my dad saw fit that I knew how to protect myself. Before his death when I was 13, I had shot 5 types of rifles and 10 pistols with impeccable accuracy. I knew a gun being loaded when I heard it. I stiffened and searched around for my cell phone. there was a popping sound, almost like a swish. I had seen enough action movies to know that it was silenced gun shot. The lone shot was followed by footsteps again. Whoever this was, was a very efficient pro. As the footsteps moved to the next victim's room. i remembered with a jolt that I had left my phone on the kitchen table. There was nothing I could do but wait, and hope that no other popping sounds would ensue. My hopes were shattered with my heart as the same sound rushed through the still air. not allowing me any time to grieve, the footsteps found their way to the last victim. I felt around my head to make sure no hair was visible as I tried to make myself as flat as possible, hoping that he would not be able to see me. It was like a game of hide and go seek, but with a deadly twist. The door knob rattled wordlessly as it turned and the door opened effortlessly, without sound. I shivered involuntarily as the footsteps entered the room I had once considered a sanctuary. The footsteps reached the center of the room and my body tightened as I awaited impending death. The something completely unexpected happened. A laugh broke out. I resisted the temptation to pull the covers down and peak to see what the joke was and what this murder of two and about to be 3 could possibly find funny at this present time.