posted March 29 2005

Five years ago a man broke into our house. It was around midnight and I got up to go to the toilet. I was half asleep. As I walked into the bathroom I saw a figure move. I said my husband’s name P, but there was no reply.

I walked out of the room and went looking for P, he was in another room. I said “there’s a man in the toilet”. P looked at me as if I was dreaming and pushed ahead. I stumbled behind, searching, “why is that man in our bathroom?”

At that moment a hooded figure burst out of the room, hand raised. As he brought the screwdriver down, I was sure he was here to kill P. I screamed and begged “please don’t hurt him”. As he looked at me, I realised it was a bungled robbery. I got between them and flung open the door. “Get him out, get him out”, I shouted.

A couple of months later I found this note in the letter box. I was terrified, now I just laugh.

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