She started walking down the hallway, as she walked further and further she gripped the bat harder to get ready to swing.

All of a sudden a light in the kitchen detected his movement. She saw him—a man in a dark hoodie, his face partially obscured. He was rummaging through her drawers, looking for something of value. Her pulse quickened, and she could feel the panic rising in her chest.

She knew she had to act fast. Her phone was useless in the dark, so she needed to find another way to protect herself. Her eyes darted around the kitchen, landing on a heavy, ceramic vase on the counter. It was an old piece, but it seemed like it could do some damage.

As the intruder’s back was turned, she swung the vase with all her strength. The impact was loud and jarring, and he let out a sharp cry of pain. He stumbled, clutching his head as he dropped the crowbar he’d been using. Desperation fueled his movements as he tried to flee.

She grabbed the phone from the kitchen counter, dialing 911 with trembling fingers. Her voice was shaky but urgent as she explained the situation to the operator. The intruder slipped on the wet tiles, crashing into a chair and collapsing to the floor.

When the police arrived, they took over. The intruder was groaning, clearly in pain but alive. They assured her he’d face justice and took him away. She was left in the aftermath, her heart still racing as she reflected on the night’s events.

The storm had passed, and dawn began to break. Her home, once a sanctuary, had been invaded. But in defending herself, she had found a strength she hadn’t known she possessed. She thought back many times of what could have happened if the intruder's location was not exposed and how thankful she was that she was able to find him.