It was 8 o'clock on a cold, dark Tuesday night. I was home alone with my older brother, Kevin, and I was in my room eating dinner and watching TV. I headed down the stairs to throw my plate away when I heard a door close downstairs followed by footsteps, and I stopped in my tracks. Realizing that my brother was upstairs and we were the only two in the house, I quickly ran back up the stairs and into my brothers room in hysterics. "I just heard something; I think there's somebody downstairs" I quietly shrieked. Kevin, disbelieving me, went to the top of the stairs to listen. When he heard the same noises I had, he promptly grabbed his bo staff (a long pointy stick used by black belts in tae kwon do) and motioned for me to follow him as we locked ourselves into my room and then into the game room off of my room.
While hearing scratching noises at my door and fearing for our lives, we called the police and our parents. Waiting for the police to arrive seemed like the longest wait ever. When they finally arrived, they picked the front door lock and searched the house fully armed and SWAT Team style, releasing us from our hiding spots. But when they were looked around, they didn't find anybody else in our house, and there were no signs of forced entry or any evidence that somebody other than me and my brother were in the house..... We were dumbstruck, as we had both heard the same noises going on down the stairs. And no matter how much we have tried to reason it out, we have yet to this day found an explanation for what had gone on that night.
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