≫ a collection of imagines for some of my favourite fictional characters and celebrities, part two.
(Gifs used are from google images, so credit to their rightful owners!)
I also post these imagines on tumblr x
summary: when a stranger tries to break into your family's home, you feel a moral obligation to help her out, but soon get given the responsibility to look out for her.
warning/s: mentions of blood, injury and death.
author's note: finally managed to get this written after toying with the idea for so long! just my luck that alicia is finished on the show lmao, but good for alycia! anyway, if there's any alicia clark enthusiasts out there still, this one's for you <3
Y/B/N = your brother's name / Y/M/N = your mother's name
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It was a day like any other when everything changed. At least, it was supposed to be. Where my family and I lived, it was quiet and secluded. We had our privacy, our security and nobody bothered us. Most of the time anyway.
I was digging out some old books to read from my wardrobe when I heard a noise from outside. Pausing, I listened in to see if it was my brother or mother returning from their chores, but then another bang sounded and I immediately ran downstairs, grabbing my shotgun on the way.
Following the noise to the kitchen, I realised there was someone attempting to come in through the back door, but the silhouette of a figure I saw through the closed blind wasn't one I recognised. With caution, I left through the front door and made my way around, hoping to surprise the intruder and get the upper hand.
Just as I'd predicted, a stranger was leaning against the doorframe, attempting to unlock the door and break in, so without thinking twice, I raised my shotgun and aimed it forward.
"Hands where I can see them!" I shouted, startling the girl and making her jump but listen.
"I'm sorry," she said slowly, raising her hands. "I thought this place was empty."
"Well, it's not," I retorted harshly. "Turn around. Slowly. One wrong move and I shoot."
Doing as I said, the girl turned around and faced me, hands still raised in the air. Her skin was a ghastly white, losing colour by the second and making her green eyes seem deadly as they looked my way.
"How did you get through the fence?" I asked, not lowering my weapon.
As if her mind was elsewhere, she looked up and tilted her head. "What?"
"The fence," I repeated quickly, not giving an ounce of friendliness away as I shook the gun for emphasis. "Surrounding the perimeter. How did you get through it?"
Swallowing hard, she blinked and looked away. "Sorry, look, there was a hole in it. I was running away and I slipped through, cutting my leg in the process."
Realising I was so distracted with holding her where I could see her, I hadn't noticed the gash on her calf, bleeding at this very second. It definitely didn't look good, which explained her paling expression.
