| Mourn for me | Stockholm syndrome. ON HOLD

I heard the glass hit the ground down stairs moments after I thought I heard someone outside. I reached for my phone off of my dresser and tapped the screen to turn it on, but it stayed on a blank screen. My phone was completely dead, and I was home alone until tomorrow. "Okay, new plan." I thought, moving the covers to the side and letting my feet hit the carpet. Trying to be as quite as I could, I started to sneak across my bed room floor, and into my dads room. I felt like time had stopped as the sounds of glass breaking and things being thrown around down stairs filled my head. As I turned the handle for the door that leads into his bedroom, I stepped down onto the wrong place, and the floor let out a noise that echoed through the house. The noise from down stairs halted, but was soon replaced by footsteps coming from the kitchen. I felt my heart beating faster and faster as I swung open the door and dove for the dresser, hoping his gun was still there. I listened to the footsteps until they stopped at the half open door. I was now crouched behind the broken closet door, hoping that who ever was there would just leave. Deep down I knew that wasn't going to happen. The creek of the door filled the room as they stepped in, just past the closet. For a brief second I thought I was safe as I heard them start to turn back. That second felt like bliss compared to the next. In the same time it took to feel like I was okay, the closet door was ripped open, and I felt myself being pulled out. I managed to kick the masked man backwards enough that I could get the gun between us. I cocked it back, aimed at him, and pulled the trigger. But nothing. I froze. I didn't know what to do. My last line of defense was down, and I had to no way to call for help. I heard him laugh, as he started towards me. Before I could react, I felt the impact of my head hitting the wall and then everything faded into nothing.