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There was a stranger in my house. I could tell. Outside my partially closed bedroom, the towel closet's bifold door was cackling. It jiggled mercilessly, filling the air with its frightening presence. The faint beep of the wristwatch on my desk indicated that the moon was now at its peak - stars dancing all around it in the purple night. My mom and dad's snores proved that they were not awake; the faint glow from the nightlight in my little sister's room, which shone underneath the crack of my bedroom door, proved the same thing for her. There was a stranger in my house, and I was panicking. The jiggling stopped for a moment. Anticipation licked at the back of my mind. Heart pumping, adrenalin beginning its journey through my veins, only one thought monopolized my mind: he was coming ... he was going to open my door and .... It was the unknown that frightened me. Who was it outside my door? What was his intention? Dread grasped me with its iron fists, forcing unrealistic yet unavoidable scenarios to play in front of my eyes like a movie. Thump. Something, most likely a towel, dropped to the carpet floor. CRASH! I yelped and pulled the blanket over my head. Squeaking echoed through the air. The guinea pig cage had been knocked over. Right outside my door. By a stranger. Someone intruding in my house. Never had I felt this much fear. "Please, please, please, please," I silently pleaded, though for what was entirely unknown. Either I was begging not to be found, or I was begging for the strength to fend off this stranger. The loud, draining creak from the old, rusted hinges of my bedroom door sent shivers down my spine. Crinkling from a foot hitting the math homework scattered across the floor soon followed. A pregnant pause. A dip in my bed. A fury paw against my leg - wait, a paw? Throwing the blanket from my face, I glared at the fuzzy black and white bowling ball perched at the end of my bed. "Ed, you stupid cat!"
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Introduction
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Body Paragraph
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Overall Essay
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Stranger in my house essay
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Stranger In My House Essay

Words: 353    Pages: 1    Paragraphs: 7    Sentences: 40    Read Time: 01:17
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              There was a stranger in my house. I could tell. Outside my partially closed bedroom, the towel closet's bifold door was cackling. It jiggled mercilessly, filling the air with its frightening presence. The faint beep of the wristwatch on my desk indicated that the moon was now at its peak - stars dancing all around it in the purple night. My mom and dad's snores proved that they were not awake; the faint glow from the nightlight in my little sister's room, which shone underneath the crack of my bedroom door, proved the same thing for her. There was a stranger in my house, and I was panicking.
             
              The jiggling stopped for a moment. Anticipation licked at the back of my mind. Heart pumping, adrenalin beginning its journey through my veins, only one thought monopolized my mind: he was coming . . . he was going to open my door and . . . .
             
              It was the unknown that frightened me. Who was it outside my door? What was his intention? Dread grasped me with its iron fists, forcing unrealistic yet unavoidable scenarios to play in front of my eyes like a movie.
             
              Thump.
             
              Something, most likely a towel, dropped to the carpet floor.
             
              CRASH!
             
              I yelped and pulled the blanket over my head. Squeaking echoed through the air. The guinea pig cage had been knocked over. Right outside my door. By a stranger. Someone intruding in my house. Never had I felt this much fear.
             
              "Please, please, please, please," I silently pleaded, though for what was entirely unknown. Either I was begging not to be found, or I was begging for the strength to fend off this stranger.
             
              The loud, draining creak from the old, rusted hinges of my bedroom door sent shivers down my spine. Crinkling from a foot hitting the math homework scattered across the floor soon followed. A pregnant pause. A dip in my bed. A fury paw against my leg - wait, a paw?
             
              Throwing the blanket from my face, I glared at the fuzzy black and white bowling ball perched at the end of my bed.
             
              "Ed, you stupid cat! "
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