by Anonymous | Score: 2000
He ducked back into his bedroom and began going through his desk, looking for an old can of pepper stray. His mind was still a fog. What had
happened last night? The clock read six AM. The house had been silent since the crash woke him up. Alex found the pepper spray and tried to read the directions on the side but he couldn't make them out in the dim morning light. He began walking through the house.
As he examined the rooms, a sense of dread began to wash over him. He began to recall what had happened at the bar. The recognition of what might explain the glass dawned on him. This was bad, very bad.
Alex reached his office, the last room at the
end of the hall. He examined the closet and looked under the desk. There was nobody here. He checked the deadbolt on the door to the attached garage. Intact. All the doors and windows were locked.
Keys. He frantically began searching for the things from his pocket the night before. His phone was next to the bed. His wallet was still in the jeans on his floor. His keys were nowhere to be found.