Maddi Renolds

I gripped my dad’s hand and tried to drag him from bed. 

“Dad! Wake up!”

“Just a few more minutes, “ he groaned.

“Dad!” I dumped the pot of steaming hot coffee I had on his face.

“Okay, okay, I’m up!”

 “Good, but we need to get down.” I rushed over to the window and pulled it open.

  “Honey, it’s 1:27 a.m. on a Saturday. You won’t be late for school.” 

I sighed. Obviously, he didn’t get it.  “No, Dad. They’re here.” 

My father leaps out of bed 


I nodded. 

“Well, hurry up!” he cried, and flung the emergency ladder we had purchased for occasions like this out the open window. 

I leaped out the window and caught the ladder. My dad followed, and soon enough we were on the ground in the backyard. My father pushed aside a bush, and leaped into the hole it was covering. I followed, and pulled the fake bush back over.

Now that I am safe, my fear is quickly replaced with anger. Those goons had killed my mother and now they would stop at nothing to eliminate me and my dad, too.