Intruder Confronted

He went to sleep early (about 10pm) and now, well after midnight, he heard noises that could only mean one thing; someone was in the house and he knew that 40 years ago, he learned enough karate to get himself killed.

He also knew that one of the rules was to not go looking for the intruder but to stay put because you knew where you were but did not know where the intruder was. He got out of bed anyway and started toward the noise; toward the kitchen where he had his phone charging.

There was little of value in the kitchen so the burglar would be moving to another part of the house; likely the other bedroom where he might score some electronics or jewelry or who knows what they want in the middle of a summer night.

Clearly, he was going to engage whoever it was and the only thing his mind could do was cloud up; freeze. He would have to operate on instinct but that must have been a subconscious thought because he was in no condition to think.

His heart, however, was wide awake and racing; pounding. He must remember to breathe and wondered if this was a moment to say a prayer.

The only light was the nightlight but the intruder’s outline was evident and it seemed that he was turned away – at least for the moment, a long moment that became ingrained in his memory because exactly what happened next happened quickly and the details not easy to recall.

As the intruder turned, I side-kicked him at the knee (to hurt him and as a distraction) and then immediately went for his throat with the side of my hand, aiming for the area where his two collar bones met so my hand slid upward and hard into his Adam’s apple. Then, I struck with force at his chin with the palm of my opened hand and pushed his jaw into his skull. He staggered and I attacked him pushing his head and him backward. His spine hit the granite countertop and he was bent backward. I kept pushing until his head smashed down into the granite. He fell to the tiled floor. I did not want him to get up (as so often happens in the movies) so I followed him down, landed with my elbow into his chest and hammer-fisted his face.

I figured if he got up after that, even prayers would not help. But, he was motionless, totally still.

I finally exhaled (I think I’d forgotten to breathe), got up off the floor and stomped on his head with the heel of my foot – just in case. I heard his skull bones crack.

I dialed 911.

This was no dream. It was nightmarish. The arrival of the police made it real.

Dr. Jan Wade Gilbert

Wilmington NC