The Intruder

Paula Dotson Frew
2 min readNov 3, 2020


Photo by Mat Reding on Unsplash


The sound pierced through Camille’s peaceful slumber. She sat straight up in bed and reached for her husband. It was a moment before her mind cleared enough from fear. That allowed her brain to remember that her husband was out of town for business. He would be of no help. She was on her own.

“I knew we should have gotten a dog,” she thought before realizing it would be up to her to protect the baby from whatever nefarious creature had made that noise.

She left the warmth of her bed and reached for her robe. Wrapping it around her and cinching it with the belt, she stepped into her slippers and tried to decide what she would take as a weapon.

She grabbed the flashlight out of the bedside table and made her decision. She had remembered Tommy’s golf clubs that were in the closet where he put them after his golf outing with potential clients.

Grabbing a nice, hefty club, she opened her door as quietly as she could. After checking the baby in the nursery, she heard another crash downstairs.

At least the intruder was downstairs. She ducked back into her room and picked up her cell phone. She pushed in 9–1–1 and waited for the lady to finish asking what her emergency was.

“There’s an intruder in my house. I have heard two crashes so far. It’s just me and my baby at home.”

“Stay where you are. There is a unit two blocks away. Give me your address and I will dispatch them.”

As Camille stood at the head of the stairs, she held the club and prayed that the officers would arrive before anything could happen.

In just a few minutes she saw the tell-tale red and blue lights and flew down the stairs to let the officers in.

“Hello, ma’am. What seems to be the problem?”

Camille told them and waited while the officers cleared the house then went outside to clear the perimeter. Once done, they returned to Camille. With somber faces, they gave their news.

“Ma’am, it would appear your cat knocked over a couple of vases. Everything else looks good.”

After Camille thanked them with embarrassment tinting her cheeks, she closed and locked the door.

“I knew we should have gotten a dog!” she said.



Paula Dotson Frew

I love to write and self-published my first book of poetry last year, a book of Haiku this year, and a book of short stories later this year!