Ecstatic that Mady was on her way for a much overdue girl's night, I had the music cranked and was in the kitchen starting on the pizza. Beside the full moon last night, and a constant house full of people, or some kind of drama, it has been awhile since we could just get together and shot the shit over a couple of beers. Cheese grated, pepperoni sliced and in the fridge, I started to roll out the dough. Dancing to the beat, sprinkling some floor on the counter, in my own little world of contentment for the first time all week.

Letting all my worries and reservations of being on lock down, I enjoyed needing the dough between my fingers and the bass of the music moved my body. Everything outside my little bubble of happiness was ignored for the moment, a very short-lived moment. As I sang along, cheerfully off tune one minute, the next my breathe was stolen. Air turning frigid, air pushed out of my lungs. I had to grab hold of the countertop to keep my balance. Startled by the unfamiliar feeling it took a moment to regain my bearings. Here the usual love feeling home now felt cold, dark; like death. Still shaken by the uncomfortable feeling it took me too long to realize that something was wrong.

Someone was in my house. No not someone but multiple someones. Fuck!