Y/N L/N is a very skilled and praised physiotherapist. A certain event pushing her for a fresh start, as a physiotherapist for Liverpool FC. One question always being in the back of her mind: Will she be able to let go of her past and experience new...
"Who the fuck are you?" She shouts, standing in her living room, holding her keys in between her knuckles defensively. The dark figure stops moving, letters, pictures and her important documents cluttered on the floor of her bedroom doorway. She holds her breath, her throat closing up from anxiety. For a moment she thinks she's being delusional, maybe her brain is playing tricks on her, too tired from the barely three-day trip.
The figure approaches her, dressed in all black, face covered with a black surgical mask and a beanie pulled down to the intruder's forehead. They aren't armed, but definitely way bigger in stature compared to her. She widens her eyes, her heartbeat picking up. Mentally calculating if she should run or hide. But the shock of encountering a stranger in her house, her safe space- usually away from all that's negative in world- motivates her to at least try to protect it.
"I said who the fuck are you? And why the hell are you in my house?!" She shouts, voice stern and confident. Not an actual reflection of her emotions. She extends her arms out, showing of that she was- armed with something at least. The intruder nears her- a little to fast for her, her brain being too occupied with racing thoughts and different emotions to comprehend what is actually happening.
She's pushed against the singular chair in her living room. Her back colliding with the edge of the backrests of the chair. She cries out in pain, trying to keep her knees from giving out and to retaliate. Without sparing another second she grabs onto the intruder, jamming the keys against their stomach. The person, now easier to possibly identify with a masculine figure stumbling back from pain. Profanities spilling from their covered mouth. The gruffness of the voice confirming the intruder as a male.
She stands up again, wincing from the pain in her back, knowing it would definitely bruise up the in next hours. Her eyes dart around her as the intruder is stepping towards her again. She gasps, grabbing onto the ceramic plant pot on her coffee table. Smashing it against the intruder's head, her precious plant flying across the room.
He groans out in pain again, gripping onto the back of his head, cursing her out and yelling at her.
She initially thinks of running out, but the way the intruder still tries to reach out to her makes her heart leap into her throat. Adrenaline now taking over her body, she makes a beeline into her closet, shutting the door with a loud slam and a click of a lock. She heaves and chokes on her breath. Pulling out her phone to dial the emergency number, her hands trembling and moving on autopilot.
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My eyes shoot open, my vision blurry and disoriented as I sit up from the bed. Sweat covering my bruised back and forehead. I breathe out, my heart palpating with fear and panic as I blink rapidly, trying to gain my full vision. The only light visible being the light coming from the bedside lamp. Which I had trouble sleeping without.
My thoughts roam and race, making me want search for comfort. My pride holding me back. Virgil did not have to see me in this- state. I hadn't told him about the encounter only telling him I had fled to the closet, immediately after noticing the intruder. I did not want him to know how much the break-in had effected me throughout the week. Mentally or physically.
