The Computer

Before I opened the door, everything was cool - or at least it seemed so from outside. The door wasn’t broken and windows were all intact, not even a crack. But as I snapped the light switch on, debris of my belongings were scattered around the living room. I blinked - twice, thrice. Shock numbed my system and for a moment I stood there, paralysed by the sight. My eyes scanned through the rubble; torn off pages and newspaper leaves; broken planks from my wrecked coffee table; glass shards from the television stand. My high-definition plasma television wasn’t there. Gone with it was the surround sound system that took a whole year of savings to purchase. My heart fell to my stomach and I dropped on my knees. This had to be a nightmare. I pulled myself to my feet, head pounding and heart beating faster. I looked around the living room again and noticed that more of my stuff was missing.

         I tiptoed to the kitchen, as though the assailants were still inside the house. Cabinets’ contents were pulled out and strewn on the kitchen floor. The fridge door was open. I had not yet bought my grocery but earlier when I left the house there was enough food to last me a week. Now all that was left were shelves in the fridge, and a bottle of water. Should I call the police, I wondered? But the house has not been broken into. The door was locked when I arrived. Will they believe my story?  Then something crept into my mind. The computer! They must have come for my computer. I sprinted to my bedroom. The door was open. My ears throbbed from the sound of my heart pounding against my ribcage. The closet was open and my clothes thrown on the bed, on the floor and over the small bookshelf by the wall. 

         I held my breath when my eyes spotted it. The laptop computer was submerged amid the rubble of clothes and papers on the bed. I grabbed it and sat on the bed, heaving a sigh of relief. The computer meant everything to me. All the vital documents were kept in it, including sensitive and top secret matters I’ve been compiling in the last five years. I hugged the computer, my eyes looking around the room at the mess the thieves left behind. But something didn’t add up here. The thieves were evidently in my bedroom. How could they leave such a valuable item like a computer? They stole the TV and the sound system and even the food. It didn’t make sense that they could decide not to take a computer.  Surely they saw it. I placed the computer on my lap. It felt oddly lighter and something on its bottom scratched against my thigh. I turned it upside-down. The hard-drive was missing!