Bat Me

I had never swung a bat at people. Until now.

A baseball bat wasn't that heavy, but the swing from a powerful arm could deliver a devastating blow. Imagine you were hit by a bat swung for home run, do you get the idea? Good. Now, if the baseball bat was the only thing available to you as a weapon other than your fearless fists, would you not use that? I know I would, and I was.

My folks introduced me to baseball back in the days when I was still a 6th grader, I was in the little league all right, swinging the bat and running the base, an all around. When I was born, I remember we used to like the Yankees and watched their games together and enjoyed it, then somehow years later we were on the Red Sox's stadium cheering for their opponent instead. The sweating crowd and the soda that never run dry was the best I could recall. Bearded men shouting and yelling, too.

Something stirred down stairs and I woke up to the sound of it. Someone had broken into my house. I rolled to the edge of the bed and carefully stood up, not wanting to alert the thief of my presence. Slowly I walked to the stairs and peeked down and listened, the steps of that person, although very light, still distinguishable. The sound was coming my way. I quickly retreated to the guest room, emptied except the baseball bat leaning against the wall under the windows. I grabbed its cold metal handle and felt the grip from years ago still lingering in my hands, the moon shone on the bat and the shadow extended to the door. A human figure with a bat in hand. Pure evil.

Whoever intruded my place, would taste a heavy beating of a life time.

The stairs started to creak, I knew it was coming my way so I stood at the darker corner of the room, where no moon was lighting, only the shadow's passenger awaited. I took a good hold on the bat, as soon as anything poked into this room, I would smash it hard, like a home run to the center of the earth.

The silence went on for a while, the electric wave piercing my ear kept my alert. Sweat ran down my naked shoulder and soaked by my sleeveless shirt, my nose itching. A rumbling noise came from my bedroom, drawers pulled, wardrobe cleared, desktop swiped. I stuck on the wall and listened to every bit of noise made next door.

The steps coming my way. I held on tight to the baseball bat, it might be my only chance to get out of here alive. I knew I should have bought a piece when I moved to this neighborhood, but damn, I thought I would be safe with all the patrol details out there.

The light went on outside as I saw a familiar shadows.