3
545 Words
Like any victim, I yelled.
I yelled so loud, people should have come out running and stamepding, creating a commotion, calling the police and saving my stunned body, but nothing of that sort happened. The melodrama died with no voice.
I was too shocked to even make out a scream.
My eyes turned dark red in the anxiety and I gulped down my pills, before circling my house.
The lurky window.
It was one in my bedroom.
If my bedroom door was open (like the hundred thousand times it would be), I could see literally everything in the house.
Starting from the dining hall, to the bathroom and kitchen; which was much to say about my decent home.
My cards were right, since my door was f*****g wide open.
And I saw him.
He was tall.
Too tall with his back turned to me.
He wore a suit, guessing by the pomp and splendour of the dress and sat with his legs crossed on the wooden chair of my dining set. Black silky hair hung as a pony tail with few of it left down to his veined neck, and attire. I saw shoes, expensive loafers holding onto huge feet.
Tremedously huge.
But who cared?
He was a robber for god sake.
My film making head had to stop mind f*****g guys before taking a glance at them.
The bastard.
He had the dare to.
I watched as someone else, a young chubby dude in white and specs, looking like a new adult flushed in childish shorts walked from the kitchen, in my Scooby Doo plate, with chicken and ...rice..and cut vegetables, for this dude.
How the hell?
My jaws clenched.
how dare he touch what was mine?
The hot dude took it and began to eat.
While the todder adult watched in happiness.
What was this? Some show where poverty impressed the rich?
I shifted my neck to the sides, twisted and turned to get my muscles ready for a fight, and snuffed out my pepper spray.
One hit and they would be crying for help.
Wooho.
My plan was the front door, which wasn't such a great idea, but I had no other way.
Through the roof was dangerous since I would be struggling to hold onto the thatched surface, with bitten nails. While the back door did sound like a perfect idea, only I knew how the store that held the door had massive weapons to attack a hijacker or....a mafia.
Whoever they were, they had to die today.
Keeping the exaggeration aside, get their ass whooped.
So I took all the courage in the world with a huge breath, kept my arms flexed and went to the front door to knock.
Mom, stay with me.
The necklace didn't lay inside the bag anymore.
It was around my neck.
I can do this.
I stared at the wooden door before me, "Vivian's Vent", written in bold italics close to the handle, making it sure for any loser, it was my place.
Taking multiple breaths again, I curled my fists to knock.
The moment my knuckles hit the door, it flew open.
"Let's go, Luck...so we don't-"
His eyes bore into me.
I stood there, confused and shocked.
"Who the hell are you?!"
- Writer
