In the fall of 1998 (14 years after moving from Rabbit Valley) I shared my ghost stories with a girl I was dating. My roommates were out of town that weekend, so when I went to bed later that night, I had the townhouse completely to myself. I awoke at 3:40* a.m. to the sound of glass shattering. It woke me up completely. Knowing I was on the top floor with no way out, I pulled a baseball bat out of my closet.

I slowly crept downstairs, all the while hearing the sound of glass landing on our tile floor in the kitchen. As I made it to the bottom of the stairs, I heard glass skating across the floor as if someone's foot had kicked it. I decided that since I didn't know how many were in my house or what weapons they might have, I flung open the front door and turned on the living room lights. As I did this I hurried out the front door. I felt that by scaring them off, the worst that could happen was that they had broken a window.

I sat outside at my car for at least ten minutes, giving the presumed burglars plenty of time to escape. I then went back inside the house…only to find no broken window. I got a flashlight and walked around the outside of my townhouse; still nothing was broken.

There were probably 8-10 townhouses in a row (mine being near the middle). Every single townhouse was empty (it was an away football weekend, so that's not unusual). I walked around every one of those houses inspecting for a possible break-in. There was nothing there that could've caused the initial noise, let alone the sound I heard coming from my kitchen.

After spending 30 minutes checking things out, I finally went back to bed. I can't dismiss this as simply a bad dream or sleepwalking. I was 100% aware of what I was doing, why I was doing it, and was making logical decisions. I naturally thought of Penny and gave it credit for the mysterious intrusion.