It’s 4:37am. I wake up to a loud bang. I roll over to alert my husband, Blake. He’s not there. It must be him down there trying to cook me breakfast for when I wake up at 5:00am, so I close my eyes and try to get a little more rest. I slam the alarm clock as soon as it goes of. I didn’t get anymore sleep. Groggily, a stand up out of bed and go down the stairs. Blake left a note on the table, “Morning sunshine! I had to leave at 4:30 because work called me in extra early. I made you a scone for breakfast, there’s cream cheese in the fridge.” “4:30?” I think, “he must’ve been late.” Just then, I see a shadow run up the stairs. I convince myself that I don’t have to worry, I’m just seeing things because I’m tired. I finish my breakfast and go back the the room to get ready. “I swear I closed the door all the way.” I whisper to myself a little too loud. Then I hear footsteps. “Blake!” I call out. No response. I slowly open the door and take a look around from the doorway. I shake my head and rub my eyes. “Maybe I should just call in sick.” I walk in the room and close the door behind my back. As I pull my arm back to my side, someone grabs it and pulls me back against them. I inhale deeply to scream but before I can get even the tiniest whimper out, my face is covered with a cloth and a pass out.