A new house, a lost set of keys, and all the doors locked. “Just my luck!” I said sarcastically. I sighed and looked down at the illuminated screen of my phone, it read Monday, 11:52 P.M. Why was I even out this late? I should be in my house sleeping by now! I put my phone back in my pocket and looked around. The street lamps were the only source of light I could see. I guess I wasn’t going to be asking the neighbors for help.
I started thinking of solutions to my situation. I could call the police and ask them to open the front door… no, that’s abuse of the 911 service, sure I want to get into my house, but I don’t want to be fined in the process. I considered leaving and getting a hotel room for the night, but, at that moment, a cold wind smashed against my face. So cold, I was shivering now. I didn’t own a car, and the nearest hotel was a solid 30 minute walk from here. No, I’m going to find a way into my house! After all, I’d bought the place and I didn't pay for it just so I could stay in a hotel room.
I walked up to the front door and turned the knob, still locked. “Well of course it is,” I chided myself. I walked over to the side of my house, there were two windows. I walked up to the first window and tested it. Locked. I turned to the second window and tried it. Bingo! Unlocked! I opened up the window as wide as I could and crawled inside. It was the kitchen window. Ah, I love this Kitchen, it was the reason I’d bought the place. Dark wood cabinets, sparkling granite countertops, and new, clean, modern appliances. I definitely put a lot of work into keeping my house clean. Strange though, I don’t remember the last time I cleaned it.
I drew my eyes away from the appliances and looked to my right. There was a doorway with a light switch next to it. It was very dark in here I noticed, so I decided to turn on a light. I began to make my way through the dark room towards the light switch, when I fell with a loud crash. I got up, quickly brushed myself off, and was about to continue on my way when I heard a creak from upstairs. I stopped and listened even though I was sure it was nothing. I waited a bit and was about to continue when I heard a different noise. Footsteps. They sounded as if they were coming down the stairs. There was someone in my house!
I froze in fear for a few moments as I was flooded with terrifying thoughts. Who is it?! What do they want?! Is It a robber?! Is he armed?! The footsteps were drawing closer every second. Step by step. Closer and closer. To me!
I frantically searched the kitchen with my eyes, looking for anything I could defend myself with. On the counter to my left was a cutting board, and on it sat a large knife. I quietly moved over to it and grabbed it. I gripped the knife tightly in my hand and moved to the side of the doorway, out of sight from the other room.
The intruder was in the next room over now, heading in my direction, with an almost painful slowness, or so it seemed to me at the time. My palms were sweaty but I managed to grip my knife a little tighter as I stood, waiting for the inevitable to happen. Just then, a figure entered the room and I, in a panicked attempt to save my life, swung the knife cutting the intruder deeply across the chest, and he fell to the floor. The knife dropped from my hand. I took a step back, then another. My hands flew to my mouth. “Oh my god, I-I killed him,” I muttered as I continued to step away from the violent scene that lay before me. One step, then another, until I found myself running. I ran out the window, down the street, as far as I could get from that place. I ran for a long time. And then stopped. I looked around and thought aloud “Wait…. What am I running for?” I saw a white house in front of me that I’d Never seen before in all my life, and said “Oh! hey look, it’s my house!”

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Two police officers stood looking down at a dead man who lay in the doorway of his kitchen. The first officer shook his head sadly while the second had a look of contempt on his face, not directed at the corpse, but instead, at the man’s killer.
“Sick psychopath, killing people in their own homes with their own belongings,” said the scowling officer, his eyes filled with an obvious loathing.
“Yep, the psycho’s been busy too, seventh murder in the past five days,” said the other officer.
“He must act like he owns the place,” spat the scowling officer.
“Yeah, just another reason why we’d better go and inform the media about this guy. Tell the people to lock their doors and windows, ‘cause he won’t leave anyone alive if we let him, and I’m not looking forward to all the over time that’d bring,” said the first officer.

“You know, he probably gets a kick out of killing people where they feel safest, makes him feel like the king of the world.”

“Hey, don’t jump to conclusions, maybe he thinks they’re the intruders.”

“Yeah, right.”