Set Me Free

4. Speechless

     "Well, I'll call you later, yeah?" Ky friendly slapped my shoulder, being the taller one, and hopped back into the tour bus.

     "Have a good holiday, Dan!" Woody grinned and waved to me. I falsely smiled and timidly waved back at the drummer.

     "Try to get some sleep!" Will popped his head out and chuckled before he slid back in without a trace.

     I made another false and awkward smile before watching the tour bus drive off with my band mates. My hand was shoved into my pocket, trying to dig out my keys to my flat. I just need some sleep. I just want quiet time to myself. My hands immediately dropped everything: bags, luggage, everything, and I sulked off to my bedroom with my phone at hand.

     As I walked down the dark and inactive hallway of my flat, I felt a whoosh of something soft against my hoodie sleeve. I stopped my my tracks and turned around to face whatever that was. It wasn't the wind. All my windows are closed. I nervously glared around me in the wide hall that led to my bedroom. I was so confused.

     Maybe Will's right. My eyes are playing tricks on me. I slowly entered my room and shut the door behind me. First my glasses came off, and I felt blind as fuck, but nonetheless, I was too tired to even care how poor my eyesight was. My body was in sleep mode, meaning that my mind was already in a state of sleep, exiled to the world of nothingness.

<<<<<>>>>>

     Sunshine glimmered through the pane into my room, creating a glowing effect on everything that was a dull tone. I blinked my eyes open to rid them of the sleepy aura, shuffling my body to get out bed. As I put on my glasses, I couldn't help but get a sick feeling in my stomach. My door had opened on its own in the middle of the night.

     CRASH!

     Fuck...someone broke in.

     And they fucking came to my room     during the night.

     And they're still in my fucking flat.

     Like anyone else, I equipped myself with the closest thing that was a weapon. My glasses case. I had those types of cases that were hard, probably equivalent to the hardness of a rock, but good enough to throw at any assailant. If the intruder was still in my house and decided to come within a ten meter vicinity of my personal space, I was not going to hesitate to throw this.

     I tiptoed to the door of my bedroom and lightly gave it a push, at least, enough so that it would close a bit to give me some time to think of a back up plan. I stood by the side of my bed, one hand with my phone, on speed-dial for the police dispatcher. The other firmly held my glasses case. If all else decided to backfire on me, I supposed my only other choice was to run and dive out the window, and pray that I wouldn't die from a four story fall.

     CREAK...

     ...CREAK...

     ...CREAK.

     Well...guess some shit is about to go down today.

     My door slowly swayed open, and with that, I braced myself with the case and my phone. Dan Smith, aged 31, dies during a fight with a robber. How wonderful. And on the week of my Christmas break too. The clatter of shoes, seemingly multiple, made my heart beat faster as I caught a glimpse of a brown figure emerging in the doorway.

     I couldn't believe what I was looking at.

     That...it...this thing followed me home...I breathed as quietly and calmly as I could.

     Then my stupid brain decided to make me say something.

     "W-what are you?" I fell back into my unmade bed. I had never been so up close to this creature before. I had certainly never seen one in person.

     Except for that day at the fields.

     I was speechless. A fucking deer, the same one from Norway, had followed me back home. London.