We're alright

After

"I'm home" I called out, closing the door behind me. Frowning when I got no response, I entered our small kitchen and flicked the kettle on.

I wondered where Lincoln was. Bad thoughts were slowly creeping in and I suddenly worried that I'd have to go find him and have to drag him from our local pub as I did most nights. Pulling out my phone, I quickly dialed his number and prayed that I'd soon hear his sober voice. Instead I was met with the automated voice of the answer machine.

I couldn't help but let a few tears escape. Remembering when Lincoln and I had first met, when he hadn't always been like this. When I'd truly thought life had been perfect. Only now do I realize how young and naive I'd been.

I was met by the answering machine five more times, before I finally gave up calling him.

"Why do you do this to me Lincoln?" I questioned out loud.

Slipping onto the sofa with a mug of cranberry tea, and pulling off my shoes, I decided that tonight I couldn't be bothered to trudge through town looking for him. He would come home when he wanted to. There was no point forcing him, because it would just end in another argument and tears on my part, and I was just too tired for the same repetitive shit.

Soon I was finding it hard to keep my eyes open, as reruns of friends played on TV. Almost asleep, I was jolted awake when the front door slammed.

"Lincoln, is that you?" I asked nervously. Getting up from my comfortable position on the sofa.

"Linc?"

"Shut up, and I wont have to hurt you!" a muffled voice came from the next room .

My skin prickled and I froze in place when I realised that it wasn't Lincs voice I was hearing. I quietly tiptoed behind the sofa and ducked down, hoping the stranger couldn't see me.

"Who... who are you?" I shouted out nervously. I quickly grabbed my phone and speed dialed Lincolns number. I squeezed my eyes shut and hoped he would answer.

"SHUT UP" shouted the angry voice again. He suddenly entered the living room and I held my breath as I watched him from my hiding place behind the sofa. Wearing a black mask and black clothing, he was completely unrecognizable but definitely dangerous. A sharp knife glinted from his secure grip as he searched the room for me.

Silent tears began falling again when I realised Lincoln still wasn't going to pick up. I choked up and tried to keep any evidence of my being here minimal. Trying my next best option, I dialed Danny's number and waited impatiently for him to pick up.

"I don't have to hurt you as long as you don't move from wherever you are, and you don't call the police" he threatened.

"Now let me get what I need, and I'll be out of here"

I decided to comply with his demand and stay behind the sofa. I watched as he took some of my original works of art and stuff them in a black bag. He obviously thought they could be worth something. Giving one last look around the room, he moved onto the next.

"Dillon? Dillon? Are you alright?" I suddenly heard a quiet squeaky voice. Danny had answered the phone. I sighed in relief then quickly brought the phone to my ear and explained to him in hurried whispers what was going on.

"I promise you you're going to be OK. I wont let anything happen to you OK! I'll be there as quick as I can" He rushed out in a breathy voice as I heard the door slam through the phone, indicating that he was already on his way. I hung up and decided to wait where I was, concluding that it would be the safest option.