Author By Chance

Two; To steal or not to steal: that is the question

A/N: Big thanks to keepthefaithbaby for voting on my first chapter and author's note.  I appreciate you for doing that. Any ways, enjoy this chapter. x

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3 years after...

Florida, America: September 2017

Imagine this, you are an exceptionally good writer, you have a lot of followers on Wattpad and you brought yourself your very own laptop for the sole purpose to use it to type up your writing and plan your books. Only for it to be taken away from underneath you. That is what I had happen to me on a very dull and stormy Friday night.

The work that I worked my butt off to get to a perfected level that it is up to now, with me drinking copious cups of Espresso to get me through the night. Sleep deprived Katherine works wonders when it comes to writing. Apparently my best creative mindset (according to Ian) is at large in those nights, what can I say Espressos are angels.

Anyways back to my dilemma.

All for it to fall crumbling down because someone decided in their right minds that stealing someone else's work is a brilliant idea. It doesn't end there though the thief also managed to steal my laptop but idiotically the thief forgot to steal my laptop charger as well. I hope my thief likes to use a laptop with only 5% battery, man I love karma.

Normally people caught in my dilemma would call the police but what are the police going to do? You don't know who stole your laptop or your work. You basically have nothing for the police to go on to find the thief.

My parents were both on holiday for three weeks and I didn't want to place a damper on their holiday, so instead I called Ian. Even though he was in another city over from mine. All because his father divorced his mother and didn't want anything to do with Ian, so he moved to live with his mother. It wasn't a big deal that he had to move from Florida all the way towards, South Carolina. Don't get me wrong, I love the guy like a brother but, okay so maybe there was was a flood of tears, mostly from me. Let's face it Ian and I have practically been inseparable so it did hurt me when he had to move, although we have kept in the loop with each other's lives.

Our motto has always been: "Fate do your thing." So, anything that is thrown our way wouldn't matter whatsoever, resilience; how we handle it is what matters.

Dialing Ian's number I sighed with relief when Ian eventually picks up his phone. His all too familiar modulate voice enters into my ears, "Langford, what's up now? Need an excuse to get out of school?"

"My... work and laptop has been stolen..."

I heard a clatter of something hitting the ground, I assume it is Ian's phone in a reaction to what I had just said. What can I say Ian and I probably have telepathic powers and also are all too familiar with each other's lives and personalities. He could more than easily pass off as me, if he at least shave his damn legs! I swear it's like his legs have creatures attached to them.

"Don't panic Langford I will go and head on a train and come to your house as quick as you can say 'Ian don't."

Ian ends the call leaving me to await his supportive arrival. I hadn't left my room since I had noticed that my laptop and my story draft was stolen. I mean, I wasn't completely sure if I was alone right now. What if the thief comes back into my house and holds me hostage?

Ooh, that would make a good story plot. Focus, Katherine, focus. Grabbing my lamp and quickly unplugging it I slowly walk downstairs. To normal people all they saw was a girl walking down the stairs but I saw a full on war zone and I was caught in the middle of it. I was wearing an all attire of military clothes, my face had green camouflage smears on both of my cheeks and my bedroom lamp was a gun.

Once I finally reach the bottom of the stairs, or in my case to the bottom of the trenches, the loud and really powerful sound that sounds so much like a gunshot but is just the wind causes me to jump abruptly. The back door to my house was opening and shutting with the wind and in this moment the uneasiness sinks in.

"Get down," one of the soldiers tells me as the sounds of gunshots become increasingly louder and louder. Practically crawling on the ground with my lamp (gun) in hand I prepare myself for the worst but before I could reach the back door a figure was already standing directly in the doorway.