The waves outside roared as I curled up onto the couch, book in hand. I sighed, the steam from my tea filled the room. It was perfect. Almost. I stood up from my seat, pushed my feet into my slippers and shoved my hands into my pockets.
“Frankie!”
I called, my dog pounded up the stairs towards me. I picked her up gently, carried her back to the couch, and placed her down on the pillow beside me. There. Perfect.
I picked up my steaming tea and put my lips against it, with immediate regret. Searing pain jolted down my tongue and I gasp moaning in pain. I sat the teacup back down, glared at it in annoyance. Deflated, I picked up my book and flipped it open, beginning to read the first few words. Just as I was getting relaxed, a loud bang sounded from downstairs, and I jolted upright. My dog, Frankie, sat up alertedly, a small growl escaped her. I covered her snout quickly, and strained my ears to listen for any other noises. Maybe something just fell? Just as I was about to go investigate, I heard shuffling. Not just any shuffling. Feet shuffling.
I muffled my scream with a pillow, clutching Frankie tightly. I couldn’t die today. There was no possible explanation for someone to be in my house. I live alone. I was completely frozen to the couch, possibilities running through my head. Then I heard footsteps coming towards me, louder, and louder.
“Don’t move.”
My head pounded as I eyed my attacker warily. They could be armed. I glanced toward my open balcony door, the waves slamming against the sand.
“I said-”
Without another thought, I clutched Frankie, sprinting out onto my balcony. The attacker was coming after me, gun raised. Well. Without another look back, I jumped, hearing a gunshot echo. I couldn’t focus because all I knew is that I was alive. For now.
By Olivia Taylor
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