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It was fall of 2015, and I was 14 years old.

I've always stayed up late, late on the weekends, where the sun started to rise and you could

hear the early morning birds.

I was usually up playing whatever video game I was into at the time, or watching anime.

One night, I decided to watch one of my favorite movies to date, spirited away.

It must have been about 3.30 or 4 o'clock a.m. at this point, when I heard a crash outside

the front of the house. It sounded metallic, like some kind of crunching and breaking of what I thought could be

our satellite dish, hitting the pavement of our driveway. It scared me at first, but I blew it off

and figured I would just let my dad know in the morning when he woke up for work. There was no

...