Home invasion defense usually consists of split second decisions. How would you handle a situation like this one? Read the story below and share your thoughts.
CRASH! The distinct sound of broken glass startled me out of my sleep. I glanced over to the alarm clock to see that it was only 2:47 in the morning. As I extended my arm to shake my wife awake, I heard shuffling noises. She always could sleep through anything, and didn’t wake up right away, even though I almost pushed her right out of the bed.
Even when our babies were young, I was the one who woke up when they cried. As I shoved her, I heard what sounded like more than one set of footsteps, and some muffled scraping sounds.
Whoever was in my house was not trying to hide it…
Josie popped up when she realized that something was wrong. “What’s the matter?” she managed under her breath.
“Call 9-1-1 and stay upstairs. I think someone just broke in.” I then added, “I’m gonna go get the shotgun and check it out.”
I turned to my wife to tell her that I loved her. Her longing, teary eyes told me more than I wanted to hear. A look of despair flashed across her face just before she pulled me in to hug me one last time. The second before she let me go, she whispered into my ear, “don’t you dare leave me here alone. I can’t make it without you.”
I told her that I loved her, and to get on the phone with the police. As quietly as I could, I tiptoed over to the closet, grabbed the Mossberg and slid the pump back just enough to see in the dim light that there was, in fact, 00 buckshot ready to go.
I flipped the safety to the fire position so that if the time came, I’d be ready…
As I started over to the doorway, I heard my wife whispering to the 9-1-1 operator what was transpiring. I looked back toward her one last time, but she refused to look at me. I understood where she was coming from, she was most likely fearful that she might lose it altogether if our eyes met one last time.
As I turned around, I saw the time on the alarm clock, once again. What had seemed like an eternity, had really only been two minutes as the clock now read 2:49.
I wasn’t quite sure how many people were in my house, or even what they were doing, but I could hear shuffling and scraping noises coming from the kitchen’s direction.
I’d watched enough police shows and military movies to know how to glide down the stairs unheard, so I hugged the wall on the opposite side of the threat, but facing it. As I made my way down, I counted the stairs so I would know when I made it to the bottom.
Once on the landing I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck waking from the dead as I shouldered the shotgun and gently placed my finger on the trigger – just in case. I silently made my way toward the direction of the newest clanging glass noises I was hearing.
I quickly turned the hall corner like the cops do on TV. And as I did, my finger accidentally jerked the trigger firing one shot of 00 buck into the back of the intruder who was standing at the open refrigerator on the far wall.
I thought I heard the man groan as he dropped to the ground; the room being dimly lit by the ever present glow of the fridge.
“That’s basically what happened, sir. I figured that I’d wait for you all to arrive, before I would move, and held him at gun point the whole time. But, he didn’t move once. Obviously, I slid the pump to load a new shell, and yelled up to my wife to let her know that I was okay,” I said as I tried to force my growing weariness back.
“So, officer, do you need to know anything else about what happened tonight?” I asked in my shaky voice. In fact, my whole body was coming off of an adrenaline rush so high that every inch of my body shook and grew weaker by the second.
“Thank you for telling us what happened, Mr. Smith. Unfortunately, the man that you shot was actually your drunk neighbor, Bob. He mistakenly thought this was his house and used the spare key you gave him to take care of your place while you go on vacation next week. The shattering glass you heard was actually the coffee pot toppling over. The scraping noises you heard were just him trying to clean up his own mess with a broom. And, it seems like he was in the fridge looking for anything else to help him sober up a bit. After learning the man’s identity and intentions, do you have anything else to say?” The stocky police officer asked with one eyebrow raised.
As I stood there stunned, all I could muster up was, “I didn’t mean to shoot him, it was an accident!”