My house is scary

There are things I could still be doing right now, like my English homework or my math test corrections, but I cannot do them. It is against my religious beliefs. Now I just need to convince my teachers of this...

We are currently redoing our upstairs bathroom because we were having problems with leaking in the kitchen ceiling, which is directly below the bathroom. After my dad tried fixing it himself for a few months, we decided to get the professionals to look at it. Eventually they decided that we may as well just redo the entire bathroom because there were so many little problems. Either way, I have found this past week or so very frustrating. For the past two weeks, I have had to use the basement shower in the morning, which is annoying because I don't really trust myself to make it down two flights of stairs so early in the morning. I am actually very surprised and proud of myself that I haven't fallen yet. Not only that, but my basement has a glass door to the outside, which flips me out because all a serial killer would have to do it break through the glass and they are in my house. I am always terrified of going down there and seeing someone standing there in a pile of shattered glass with a knife ready to do us all in. PLUS I hate the shower down there. It is one of those with a door that always gets stuck. Seriously, I have gotten stuck in the shower down there. Not pleasant. Also, starting a couple of days ago we weren't able to use the toilet either because it was, well, non existent. Now I also have to go downstairs just to go to the bathroom, which is also annoying. My kitchen is dark and scary at night, especially since we had to take out the kitchen lights so the people working on the bathroom wouldn't kill themselves.
So the other night, I was sitting at my kitchen table, and I SWEAR I thought I heard the lock on the door turn. I flipped out a bit and carefully went upstairs, as to show the burglar that I was calm and unaware of his presence so he wouldn't immediately kill me. Unfortunately, I had to go back down there later to make my lunch and retrieve the homework I had left during my escape. While I was down there, I thought I heard noises in my garage. By this point, I was positive we were being robbed or something, so I went upstairs as soon as possible. But since the world was completely against me that night, at around 10 my dog barks to go out. Since I am the only one still awake, it was my job to let her out, which would require going downstairs and (gasp!) opening the door, which could potentially let any robbers attack me and rob my house. Luckily, they must not have noticed, or maybe my ferocious doggy scared them away, because no one barged into my house. Later, when she barked to come back in, I went through a similar ordeal in which I had to confront my front door and let her in as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, then another problem arose. My dog is a bit old and has a bad hip, so going up the stairs is really painful for her. However, she is also a whiny bitch (in a literal sense) who doesn't like being alone. Ergo, she barks when she is downstairs and she wants to go up. And she doesn't stop. When she came in the house, she went for the stairs but slipped on one of the first steps and decided she didn't want to go upstairs. She plopped right down and started whining for me to pet her. Now, my stairs are right by windows and a door with see-through glass, so I wasn't too happy about being where the robbers could see me. I tried to get her up but she was being stubborn and wouldn't stand up. Eventually I gave up and decided to let her bark her head off until she wanted to cooperate. I retreated to my bedroom, where I lay there for a while listening to her occasional barks until eventually I heard her get up and start making her way upstairs. At this point, I went down and helped her, because she has in the past slipped while going up the stairs and fallen back down, which is probably not good for her. Eventually, we made it up and I was able to sleep. Wonderful.
And then last night as I was trying to sleep, I heard something in my walls. I think it was mice, and I am officially terrified. I don't like rodents. At all.

So I am officially scared of my own house. Excuse me while I go crawl under my covers and wait until daylight.