All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
The Laundry Room
After a long day of work, Julie finally pulled into the driveway of her small home she had just moved into in the last month. She was a strong, independent woman who worked as a marketer for a large corporation. Julie had finally worked her way up to being the marketing communications coordinator, getting a huge promotion that allowed her to buy her own house.
Grabbing her purse and briefcase from the seat next to her, she got out of the car and began making her way to the front door. As soon as she stepped onto the doormat, a strange feeling washed over her, something didn’t seem quite right. Glancing over her shoulder, she shoved the keys into the lock and pushed open the door. As she walked into the kitchen and set her bags down, the feeling still wouldn’t leave her. Her gut was telling her that something was so very wrong. Julie then grabbed her landline phone and decided to call the cops, just to be safe. With a quick dial of 9-1-1, the phone began to ring.
“911, what’s your emergency?”
“Hi, I was just calling because I just got home and something feels very out of the ordinary. I was wondering if you could come and take a quick look around to make sure that everything is okay?” Julie asked patiently.
“Sure thing ma’am, we will send a patrol car. What is your address?”
“My address is 1385 NW Fulton Street. I will go hide and lock myself in my laundry room until it gets here.”
“Okay, and the patrol car should be there in about 10 to 15 minutes.”
“Thanks so much again,” Julie said as she hangs up the phone. As the bad feeling began to subside, Julie began to relax a bit. She grabbed a bag of potato chips out of the pantry and started to make her way to the laundry room on the opposite side of the house.
All of the sudden, there was frantic banging on her front door. Jumping from surprise, Julie dropped and spilled the potato chips. She then went over to the door, checking the window beside it first, to see a patrol cop standing on her front porch.
“Hi, officer,” Julie said as she opened her door. She noticed that he was huffing and puffing as if he had been in a hurry.
“Hello, ma’am,” the officer said as he glanced over her head into the house. “May I come in? After you hung up on the phone, the operator could still hear breathing on the other end of the line. I hurried over here as fast as I could to make sure that you wouldn’t get to the laundry room yet.”
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 0 comments.
Roughly based on a true story.