Long Live

Intruder

I HEARD A GROAN AND OPENED MY EYES.

I saw another person in my bed; it was a girl. She had blonde locks that were quite short. I couldn't tell how long her hair was as she was lying down, but if I had to guess, I would say it fell to her shoulders. Her skin tone was quite light. I saw her freckles shake as she crinkled her nose, where the freckles were dotted along.

Her eyes opened, and as she fluttered them to adjust to the light, I swear I saw her eyes flash every colour of the rainbow. Her eyes widened before they turned a deep shade of blue. She looked like she was in shock, I was too. Why was this girl in my room, also why did her eyes change colour?

Before I could get any answers, she shot up out of bed, taking the white duvet with her. She held it up to her neck.

Wait, white?

I jumped out the opposite side of the bed to this girl and backed up against a wall. I then realised that I was wearing boxers and pyjama bottoms, but no shirt. I also realised that if I were a few inches to my left, I would have backed into a window with a scary-looking drop.

This is where the white came into play, my bedsheets were not white, this was not my bed. How did I end up in this girl's bed?

I saw that this girl's hair did fall loosely on her shoulders, and I also saw a single streak of white in her hair.

"Mother!" This girl yelled at the top of her lungs.

I heard muffled footsteps thundering down-what I could only guess was-a hallway that was on the opposite side of the room's door. I had no time to observe the room that I had somehow miraculously woken up in because five other people appeared in the doorway almost simultaneously.

One looked like an older version of the girl; it was most likely her mother. The only differences were their hair length; her mothers were all over the place, probably because she looked as if she had just woken up, but it was noticeably longer. There was also no single white streak in her hair; in fact, there was no white in her blonde hair. This woman was also wearing a night dress; the only thing that I could tell that she was wearing was the white duvet. As soon as this woman saw me, a scowl crawled onto her face.

Another was a man slightly taller than the woman. He had broad shoulders, which made him seem intimidated, but his curly brown hair ruined that image. This was probably the girl's father. He had pyjama bottoms, like me, and also, like me, no shirt; I could see all his chest hair. The look on his face was asking me the question, 'Who are you?'

The third was a boy; he looked around the same age as me. He had a short, scruffy mop of black hair atop his head. He was wearing a shirt that was way too big for him, and he also had pyjama bottoms on. The expression on his face showed amusement, like the situation I had found myself in was somehow funny to him.

The next was also a boy but looked like a couple years older than me. His blonde hair was swept to the left and looked immaculate. He looked like he was the only one who hadn't just woken up. He donned a red army shirt, dark blue dress trousers, and black boots. The fuming look on his face made it seem like I had irritated him with my presence.

The last was a girl around the same age as me, and the first boy. She poked her head around the man I assumed was the girl's—whose bed I woke up in—father, before she came from behind him and made her way towards the girl who had the duvet around her. She had the same shade of brown hair as me, but it fell in curls and was cropped at shoulder length. She was wearing a lilac pyjama t-shirt and matching pyjama shorts.

Once she reached the girl, she held up the duvet for her, and she shot me a look that showed me she was protective of this girl.

The boy, who looked fully dressed, stormed towards me in an attempt to seem intimidating. I was in too much shock to be intimidated. With one of his forearms, he pinned me to the wall that was behind me; I could not move. His arm was inexplicably close to my neck; if he moved any closer, even a little, he would be choking me.