The Couch

When I was about 10, we, my family of six lived in an extremely small apartment- two bedrooms upstairs and then the living room. When I was tired of my siblings I would sleep downstairs. One night I am lying on the couch facing the front door and watching the sky through the window by the door when a face shows up in the window, illuminated by a lighter.

I freeze, and the face goes away. I’m pretty relieved, thinking it was maybe our druggie neighbours. Seeing if my parents were still awake when it shows up again, I try to scream but when I open my mouth nothing came out, not a sound.

The person then kicks in the door and walks in the room, he sees me, smiles and goes towards the kitchen. As he comes out of the kitchen with a knife, my dad makes it down the stairs and the guy boots it out of there.

I still can’t sleep easily on couches to this day.