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 .   .   .   .  .   .  .   .  .   .             "Dark Red Zip Code"
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  . . .  .   .   . . .  . . .  . . .               by Lachrymite


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	Squeak.  Squeak.  Squeak. 

	I'm awake.  It's five in the morning.  What is squeaking?  What woke
 me up?  I'm not normally awake now.

	Squeak.  Squeak.  Squeak.  Scrape.  Pause.

	There's something strange happening at the window just a few feet
 from my head.  This isn't normally happening at five in the morning, there's
 no strange squeaking and scraping.  I'm groggy.  What's going on?

	Squeak.  Squeak.  Scrape.  Pause.

	I take a moment to evaluate the situation.  I look up, slowly,
 carefully, deliberately.  My window is about a foot open.  Someone is trying
 to crawl into it.  Every time he opens the window a little bit more, it
 squeaks.  I am in plain view, but he hasn't yet noticed I am awake.

	Right about now, everything starts getting really surreal.  My
 adrenaline kicks in.  It seems like I spend an eternity thinking, but in
 reality it's probably only around three seconds.

	I am in plain view of the window.  It's not like he didn't know I
 was there, and was trying to stealthily break in.  He was hoping to get in
 and catch me unawares, while I was still sleeping.  What would he have done
 then?  Would he have duct taped my mouth and beaten me with something?
 Would he have held a knife to my throat while his friend stole all of my
 stuff?  Would he have raped me if I was a woman?  All I knew, was someone
 was trying to get into my room and do something to me while I was asleep.

	After figuring out what's happening, I took another three seconds
 to form a plan of action.  What was I supposed to do to get rid of this 
 guy?  There are no viable weapons nearby me.  I could just get up and start
 pounding on him, and I would do this if I knew it was safe... but he could
 be armed.  If I started hitting him, who's to say he wouldn't pull out a gun
 and shoot me?  I could slam the window on him, I suppose.  But still, that
 would keep him pinned there, and I wanted to get rid of him, not keep him
 around longer.  Plus, if I injured him, he knows where I live.  He could
 come back later with revenge on his mind.  I decided to do what seemed like
 the most logical thing I could think of.

	I sat bolt upright, and screamed as loud as I could, "WHAT THE FUCK?
 TAKE ONE MORE STEP AND I'LL SHOOT YOU IN THE FACE COCKSUCKER!"  When I think
 about it, that statement doesn't make a ton of sense.  He wasn't taking any
 steps, he was actually crawling into the window.  I think he got the idea
 though.

	He responded by yelling, "Oh shit!"  He immediately dislodged himself
 from my window, and ran as fast as he could.  My window was once again free
 from his presence.

	After sitting there stunned for a few moments, I got up, put on some
 pants, and walked over to the window.  I looked out, and didn't see anything
 out of the ordinary.  My window sill had been destroyed.  The iron bars
 protecting me from burgarly were moved.  Apparently, he had worked around
 the bars, and then pried off the base of the window sill.  He then used the
 space this created to sneak his fingers under the actual window and begin
 prying it up.  This created the squeaking noise which awoke me.
 Occasionally, his movements made the rusty bars occasionally scrape against
 something.

        I didn't get a very good look at him.  The only light illuminating
 the room was from my monitor.  All I could make out was that he was black,
 dressed in black, and from the sound of his voice, probably not any older
 than myself.

	Did I need a weapon to defend myself in this case?  No.  I happened
 to get off easy, just by intimidating him.  It was a gamble.  He could have
 called my bluff, drawn a weapon and attacked me, or any of various other
 hellish scenarios.  I was lucky.  But am I going to trust in luck to save
 my ass next time?  Hell no.  Screw all you hippie mother fuckers, it's
 time for me to get a gun.

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  .           anada 178                 by Lachrymite  (c)2000 anada e'zine .
      
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