SURVIVAL
My Husband Blocked Our Escape
Our daughter clung to me
My body froze as barking erupted from the living room. My arm remained outstretched, reaching for the freshly clean towel that needed to be folded.
The sound of claws on wood reached my ears and my chest began to thud. Slowly, I pulled my arm back to my side, leaving the towel in the laundry basket on my neatly made bed.
I glanced around the room without moving my body, looking for the only weapon I had — my phone. My mind began to race, after not seeing it on the bed and wondering where I had left it.
The living room. My phone was in the living room on the round coffee table, mere feet from where my dog was barking ferociously and jumping up at the windowsill, gauging grooves into the wood with his claws.
There was no way to call for help.
I forced my head to swivel and directed my eyes to bore into the baby monitor placed on the dresser by the doorway. It showed my daughter, napping peacefully with the sound machine in her bedroom muffling the noise coming from the savage dog down the hall.
What if it’s him? What if he’s outside? What if he has a knife? Or a gun? What if he’s already in the house?
