"Driiiing! Driiiing! Driiiiiiiiiing!" The phone is ringing. I turn my head a fraction of an inch to the left, to get a better look at my alarm clock. It reads, 3:14am. What? Who could be calling me at this hour?? It must be pretty damn important to be calling so early, I mutter to myself, as I sit up in my queen-sized bed.

I slide left, and out of the bed, still barely conscious, and pull down my oversized Led Zeppelin T-shirt, over my blue and green checkered boxers. The t-shirt seems to have rolled up during my night of fitful sleep.

As I make my way to the bedroom door, of my 4th floor, 1-bedroom apartment, I step over the broken TV remote, and several piles of clothes, both clean and dirty, when I hear something. Or rather, nothing. The phone has stopped ringing. But there's something else. I hear a soft rustling, followed by a muted squeaking.

Automatically, I assume it's just the floorboards of the living room, but if it is, what, or rather who is making the floorboards squeak? I put my ear to the wooden door, and hope to make out a sound, anything to let me know what's going on. I hear it again, a rustle of clothing this time, someone is in my apartment!!

What should I do?? Think! Think! Ok, where's my cell phone? In my purse, where's my purse? Ugh...in the kitchen, by the sink. I return quickly to the door, and decide there's nothing better for me to do, so I place my hand on the doorknob, and slowly, so slowly, turn it, and pull the door open just a crack, allowing me just a centimeter of vision. But that's enough because, from this angle, I can see that there is someone in the kitchen, looking in cabinets and on shelves. I can't tell if it's a man or a woman, but it's someone big. It's dressed in dark clothing, and I think it might be…OH MY GOD! He's holding a gun! I have to put my hand over my mouth to keep from screaming, but only air comes out of my mouth.

My room is still dark, and there are no other lights on in the apartment, so I don't think he's seen that my door is open. I quietly try to close my door, and just as I finish turning the doorknob, and am about to turn the lock as well, I hear himmoving again. No time for being careful now. I quickly turn the lock, and hear it make its clicking sound, as I rush towards my bathroom door. Luckily my bathroom and bedroom adjoin.

Now, I'm in my bathroom, and I turn to close and lock that door as well, I succeed, and breathe a small sigh of relief, but my heart is still beating at 500 beats per second. I breathe in and out again, and decide to turn on the light switch, to see if I can find anything useful in the bathroom. As the switch flips on, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and I realize how dangerous my situation is.

I reach under the bathroom sink, and open the cabinet door, trying as hard as I can to be quiet, but the cabinet still makes a tiny sound, almost like a ghost moaning, but very, very soft. I hear the sound of someone getting up off the couch, and moving around, must be the man, I think to myself, and wonder again why he's out there. But not now, no time to think about why he's here or what he wants, I just need to get out of here.

I crouch down so that I'm now facing the inside of my bathroom cabinet, and desperately look inside, trying to find something I can use to get out of my apartment or, if worse comes to worse, to defend myself from the intruder.

Toilet paper.

Lysol.

Blow-Dryer.

Curling Iron.

Toothbrush.

Floss. I could just see the headlines now; 24-yr old woman strangled with dental floss, while receiving blows to the head by a blow-dryer. That sure wasn't the way I wanted to go.

Wait, just a minute – the curling iron! Yes, I can heat it up!

So, I grab it off of the floor, and hastily unravel it, shoving the electrical cord into the outlet. I quickly turn the dial to extra hot, and wait.

Hurry up! Jeez, how can it be taking so long?

I had just bought it a month ago, believing the lie that it could heat up in

15 seconds and was powerful enough to curl even the toughest of hair, aka: mine.

Sure it could, but now wasn't the time to worry about my hair. All I need is for the iron to heat up so I can use it.

While I have been mentally complaining, I notice something I haven't before, someone's walking around again, but it's not in the living room anymore, he's walking around in my bedroom! How could he have opened the door? It was locked! But then again, so was my front door.

As the curling iron continues to warm up, I feel a small breeze.

What?

Of course, the window in my bathroom had been broken by the previous owner of the apartment, and I hadn't thought much of it until a few weeks ago when a neighbor's cat climbed out of their window and walked across the fire escape that adjoined our two apartments and strolled into my apartment, carelessly relieving himself in the shower and on the counter top. Fortunately, he didn't break anything, but I was forced to clean the poop myself because the lady, Edna, whom the cat belonged to, was incapable of cleaning my bathroom herself, because she was 'home sick', again.

Edna was always pretending to be sick so she wouldn't have to go downtown for Bingo night. She always told everyone she hated Bingo night because, some old creep would always try to sit by her and flirt with her, trying to get her number. Edna was 63 and still didn't want to settle down, and wasn't about to let anyone stop her. So, one thing led to another, and I cleaned the …excrement, and called in my broken window to a glass repair shop.

But now it was 6 weeks later, and still no one had come by to fix it, so I had draped a curtain over it, and duct taped it to the wall surrounding the window. It was about 2 ft by 2 ft, so it was decently sized, but still allowed the cold to enter the bathroom while I would be in there doing my makeup or coincidentally, curling my hair. But now, t seemed as if the cold came inside more strongly, with more force, maybe it was just my imagination, but it looked like part of the curtain was already blowing in the wind.

I touched my finger to the iron, and was surprised to find it still in the cool stages, with only a hint of warmth. But, why wait for the iron? I had a window in the bathroom!!! How could I have forgotten? And, it was conveniently placed next door to Edna's, who had the fire escape facing her bedroom window. I quickly readied myself to leave the cold bathroom, to escape into the even colder night air. I had never tried to squeeze out the window, but at 127 lbs, with an average frame, I assumed I'd be able to fit.

I tugged at the curtain to pull it off of the window, but it didn't budge, so I tried harder, still nothing. Oh, yes. The duct tape! With new found energy, I begin to pull the pieces of duct tape off the wall, holding the curtain up, but pause for a moment when the footsteps stopped. Suddenly, they were back, and headed toward the bathroom!

I start to rip the tape off with no restraint, pieces of wall paint coming off with the tape, but I don't care, I just want to get out of here! Suddenly, the last piece of tape has been ripped off, and all I have to do is pull the curtain down. I hastily snatch the curtain off its rod and gaze out into the darkness that is Trenton at what must be at least 4am in the morning. The doorknob is being turned furiously now in an attempt to open the door, and again, it stops for a moment, and then the sound of metal against metal, and clicking sounds, he's using a tool to open the door!

Now all that's left for me to do is climb out the window, so I bring my leg up, about 3 feet of the ground to put my foot through the hole, and then use both arms to grab onto the inside frame of the window, and pull myself up. Now I'm sitting on one leg in the windowsill facing the darkness, so I pull my other leg up and over and carefully stretch one of my legs nearer to what I'm hoping is the fire escape, just as I hear the door give a final defeated click, and the doorknob begins to turn.

It's now or never!

I push myself out of the window frame, and I'm falling. Luckily, the ground isn't far, but I manage to lean too far to the left as I fall so my landing is on my hands and knees. I get up, checking for injuries, and finding none but a skinned knee and a sore wrist, I immediately have my guard up again, pressing my back into the brick wall of my apartment complex. I hear low grunting sounds from the bathroom, realizing that the man's probably upset that I'm no longer in the apartment, but I'm not safe yet.

I start to creep along the fire escape, staying near the wall, and as I reach the end of it, I find that the ladder has already been lowered.

Interesting.

But I don't think too much of it, and continue to proceed down the ladder, as quickly as possible.

As soon as I have my foot on cement, I breathe a sigh of relief, but when my other foot touches solid ground, I spin around, ready to run to Stacy's condominium 2 blocks away, when I see someone emerge from the shadows created by my apartment building. As the person walks closer to me, the face becomes clearer. The deep smile lines around the mouth, the crow's feet on the sides of the eyes, and the dry cracked lips that I would recognize anywhere… It's Edna!

"Edna…? What are you doing here?" I questioned.

"Same thing as you, Stephanie!" she retaliated.

"What…? What are you talking about?"

"You don't know?" I shook my head, letting her know how confused I was.

"A man with a gun broke into my apartment, and I woke up because of all the noise he was making with those squeaky shoes of his. Young people have no decency nowadays, waking an old lady so early in the morning!" She huffed. "I managed to pry open my bedroom window and get out onto the fire escape, and climb down, and I had just enough time to lean against the brick wall when the man came out onto the fire escape too! He looked over it, and probably didn't see me, so he went back inside."

"But where do I fit in?" I asked, still mystified.

"Well," she began, "when he want back inside my apartment, I assumed he would leave soon, so I thought I would go to the pay phone across the street, and try to call the police, but as I was about to cross, I heard another noise coming from the fire escape, so I leaned against the wall again, and looked up, and sure as anything, that crook was crossing the fire escape, to get into your apartment!"

"So, he climbed in through my bathroom window?? But it was taped shut!"

"It looked like he didn't have any trouble getting inside, are you sure the window curtain was drawn when you saw the window again?"

"Well, I remember feeling a breeze when I was in the bathroom…Oh! The curtain must have been ripped halfway. That's why I felt the wind!"

"So, when I saw him enter your apartment, Stephanie, I decided to try to call your house phone, to warn you…"

The phone call at 3:14 this morning!

"…and then I called the police."

"Thank you Edna…are they on their way?"

"They had better be! I've had enough excitement for one night!"

Just then, we begin to hear the wail of sirens, presumably the police. As the sirens become louder and finally turn the corner onto Pimerston, the burglar starts coming down the fire escape, but when he's on the final ladder, realizes that he's made a fatal mistake, but it's too late, the 3 police cars have pulled up to the side of the complex, and the 5 officers are piling out, 2 going into the building, to stop the crook from escaping through the front door, and 3 cops positioned to stop him, should he continue down the fire escape.

Defeated, the burglar, with his bag of valuables, creeps down the last ladder on the fire escape, and hangs his head, ashamed, as the remaining officers' crowd around him. Hand-cuffing him, and escorting him to the police car, while one lone officer takes down our stories, as evidence to prove that the burglar was really committing a crime, as if they need more proof, I thought to myself.

As the police cleared the scene, to bring the robber downtown to the police station, Edna spoke to me in a hushed tone, as we walked through the front door to our apartment complex, "Good thing I forgot to take off my hearing aids last night before I went to sleep…"