I wrote this when I was 14 or 15, but I stumbled on it recently in my docs, and have decided it's decent enough to publish.  Enjoy.

The thing that sticks in her head is the sound glass makes as it shatters, not the tinkly sounds of it splaying all over the floor, but the sharp crack of a hammer hitting a pane of glass and it splintering in the matter of a few milleseconds, before breaking completely and giving way. It's this sound that she hears over and over, not the storm, not the voices, not the footsteps, not the laughter.

It's this sound that finally makes it real, and shakes her out of her sleep, they aren't just outside making noise or having fun, they are actually breaking into her house. They're not even trying to hide it, with the amount of noise they're making. They must not know she is home, or surely they would be a little more careful.

She stares at the ceiling and takes a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself. They don't know she's home. She's heard about this kind of thing on the news. People breaking into houses, thinking they're empty, ransacking the whole house when suddenly the occupants stumble down, tired, and they panic and kill them. She starts to hyperventilate again. The voices aren't going away, they're getting louder. She can count four- no, five, another one just spoke up. She brings her knees up to her chest. Stay calm, she tells herself. There has to be something she can do.

Call the police? No, the electricity has been out since the tree fell on the wires, and hasn't been fixed yet. Run for help? No chance of that either, the house is fairly removed from the rest of the town, besides, she couldn't get out of the house without them hearing her. Hide? Let them take what they want and leave? For the first time, she feels something other than fear, this is her house. No, hiding is not an option, she has a responsibility to protect more than herself, this house has sheltered her for years, and she is not about to abandon it so soon. There must be a way to save both herself and this house.

She crawls out of bed. They're still talking, the five of them, but she can't make out the words. This is no good, she needs to know what they're planning if she can get them to leave. She slides out of the doorway, making as little noise as possible, into the hall, and strains to hear the voices.

"...split up? We can cover more ground," says one.

"Bad idea," says a second. "That always goes wrong. Besides, we might miss something."

"Don't want Blake lying to us," chuckles a third.

"Hey man, that only happened once," objects the first. "I promise I won't do it again."

"So are we splitting up or what?" asks a fourth.

"I mean, sure," says the third speaker, the one with the higher voice. "As long as we're all agreed."

"I'm not," says the fifth. He speaks so quietly, that she strains to hear him, and to her horror, loses her grip on the wall, landing on the floor with a loud thump.

Uncomfortable silence rises from below, and she bites her lip, holding back a sob. "Did anyone else hear that?" asks the fourth.

"What the hell Penny, you said this house was empty," says the fourth sharply.

"It is!" says the third. "I swear! There's no one else here, I promise!"

"It's an old house," says the second, thoughtfully, "These things creak all the time. I wouldn't worry about it."

"So, are we doing this or what?" asks Blake.

"Alright," sighs Penny's voice. "Let's go." There are some shuffling noises from below, and some flashlight beams dance on the wall opposite the stairs. "Oh, make sure to check any beureau drawers you see, those sometimes have cool stuff." Footsteps receed, and the beams fade. She leaps up as quietly as she can, and scrambles away. She's safe for now, but there's no knowing when they'll come upstairs. She needs to calm down, she needs to focus, she needs a plan.

"Guys, I'm checking upstairs!" calls Blake's voice without warning. She jumps up, and runs behind a wall, they're coming up. A figure walks up the stairs, flashlight beam panning the walls. She breathes heavily, she's not ready, she has no plan. She's out of time. There's nowhere to hide. At the last moment, she sees the hall closet door ajar and slips inside, shutting the door as quietly as she can. Not a moment to soon, the moment she does, he rounds the corner, and light pools through the cracks in the door. "Hello?" he says. Even the shadow of the light is too bright, too sharp for this hour. She breathes. There is no noise but the creaking of the house in the stormy winds outside. "Good," said Blake, and he walks down the hall.

She counts. One mississippi... Two mississippi... and doesn't move until she reaches ten. Then she slips out of the closet, and down the hall in the other direction, trying not to think about him turning around, seeing her, then panicking...

Flashing beams pan the wall in front of her.

She doesn't think, she sprints for the room at the end of the hall, slamming the door behind her, and diving under the bed. There's not enough room, too many other things jammed under the bed, its' the most obvious spot, there's a million things wrong with it, but there's no time to change, because the door is opening again.

"Guys?" says Blake. "That was one of you, right?" He pauses, sweeping the room. "There had better not be anyone in here," he says, in a low, menacing, voice, and she holds her breath. Please, just go away...

He walks into the room, unhurridly, dragging it out, checking the corner, the wardrobe. Not the bed, not the bed. There's some cover for her, wedged between two trunks, but neither are enough to cover her, at least, she doesn't think so. He's walking over around the big master bed, inspecting the shades on the windows, and then he turns around and heads for the bed.

Please, don't check the bed.

He bends down, getting on his hands and knees, and it's too late for her to move, and he shines the flashlight straight at her.

She squeezes her eyes shut.

For a moment, silence.

And then, he stands up, and the light receedes.

He didn't see her.

He takes another lap of the room, and then he leaves. And she waits, forcing herself to count to thirty this time, before she even releases her breath. And draws in another one, slowly, and then releases it. And she hugs the trunk, thinking, thanking it as much as she dares, and only then does she crawl back out and head to the top of the staircase again to listen.

"...guys, it's seriously not funny."

"Look, it was the wind," sighs the fourth. "You know how windy it is outside, and frankly it doesn't surprise me at all that some of the doors are slamming. Explains that noise earlier too."

"You guys just don't get it," says Blake, frustrated, "I've been hearing really weird stuff. I swear, there's someone up there. We shouldn't be here."

"You're just looking for an excuse to bail," says Penny.

"I'm not! I want to check the place as much as you do! I'm just saying-"

"Wimp," mutters the second, and she crawls down a step to hear him.

"I'm not a wimp!" Then, there's a loud crash, the sound of wood breaking.

"Don't break the house," mutters the quiet one, and she steps down a bit more to hear.

"Chill out dude," says the second. "I get you're sleep deprived or whatever, but-"

"I'm being completely serious! There was someone breathing!" There's another crash, and she clenches her fists, this is her house, they have no right to come here and-

"Okay, whatever," says the second, disbeleiving. "Obviously you're not up for this-"

"Just shut up!" There's another crash, she's shaking, this is not okay.

"Cut it out, Tom," says Penny, and there's an edge in her voice.

"I'm not going to cut it out, he's acting completely unhinged-"

"Oh, I'm unhinged-" Crash!

"Blake! Stop!"

Crash!

"ENOUGH!"

Silence.

She's shaking, but not with fear, with rage. Part of her knows that this is a terrible idea that's as likely as not to come off worse for her, but she cannot let this group of thugs come into her house and do whatever they like, so without hesitating, she jumps off the last stair with a slam, and marches into the room. And this time it's different, and they can see her, and that is fine.

"Holy-" begins one of them.

"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!" she screams, letting all of the anger go into it, and the house roars with her and she closes her eyes and lets it all go.

Instants, or maybe hours later, she opens her eyes, and sees them, running, from out of the broken window they came in through. She stands there for a moment, watching, breathing, and then takes in the scene. It's a mess, but that's as much her fault as theirs. She had to get them out somehow.

It's quiet now, and her breath slows as she calms herself down. She should probably alert the police, or call someone to have the window fixed, but as she stands an overwhelming wave of tiredness washes over her. It's nothing so serious that it can't wait until morning. She takes another deep breath. Then, she turns, and walks back up the stairs, and back into her room, and back into her bed, and back to sleep.

They don't stop running until they're nearly a mile away from the house, and then Henry says "That's enough," and they slow, and stand, panting heavily. Penny collapses on the side of the road.

"That was insane!" gasps Tom. "That was absolutely insane!"

"I told you there was something up there," says Blake wiping some sweat off his forehead. "I told you."

"Yeah, well there was no need to go smashing up the house like a complete moron," muttered Tom. "You have some serious anger issues, dude. No wonder it was so mad."

"I told you not to mess up the house," muttered Alan.

"Jeez," says Penny, shaking her head. "I figured everyone was exagerating about that place being haunted. That was insane."

"Completely insane," agrees Tom.

"Come on," says Henry, helping Penny to her feet. "Let's go back to my house and do something boring like playing video games."

"Don't tell my parents we did this," warns Blake. "I'll be grounded forever if they find out."

"Yeah, like they'd believe you," snorts Penny.

"You're right," frowns Blake. "No one will ever believe us. Maybe we can go back sometime, and-"

"NO!"

"Fine," sighs Blake. "C'mon, let's go."

They walk away down the road, talking about nothing. Alan turns around, and squints back down the road for a moment, before turning and running down to catch up with the rest.