The wooden floorboards creaked beneath me, and I winced. The noise was too much; at this rate I was going to be caught-
"Anyone in here?" A series of bangs erupted from outside my door, and I heard a high-pitched squeal, then a thump. The sound could only belong to my sister. My heart ached for her, little Ann. If only this weren't happening…
"If there is, then open up!" The voice barked, before pounding on the door. My breath hitched, and I pressed further into the blankets I had wrapped myself in, in an attempt to hide myself. Hopefully, I looked like no more than an abandoned pile of blankets, discarded in the corner of the room. The only downside to this was I could see nothing, save for the pastel pink of the blanket thrown over my face. The doorknob rattled as the man attempted to open the door to little avail, as it was looked. I bit my lip to keep myself from crying out as I heard a boom as the door was kicked in.
Don't notice me. Don't notice me. The thought pounded through my head repeatedly as I tried to keep my breath even and quiet. As the person checked the room for signs of life, the floorboards whined, alerting me of his progress around the room. I heard as he knocked my belongings off my dresser, scattering them across the floor and shattering all of the glass trinkets. I heard pillows from my bed thump to the floor, then the flooring in front of me creaked.
I felt as a few of the blankets around me were shifted, but thankfully, it was where the blankets were thickest. I wasn't prepared though, for the the butt of the gun to be suddenly shoved into my stomach. Thanks to me biting my lip, no sound escaped, but the pain caused my teeth to clamp down, butting through my lip. It took but a few seconds for the coppery tang of blood to fill my mouth. I could feel the liquid begin to slide down my chin, not much different than how water would. I hoped deep down that I hadn't made a noise as I bit into my lip.
After far too long, the man called out "No one here! Move out." I heard a shuffling of boots and the slamming of doors as the people who had intruded left me alone in a house of destroyed objects, blood, and death.
I didn't move for an incredibly long time, worried that one of the men might've lingered. By the time I finally removed myself from the blankets, the blood from my lip had crusted on my neck, and sweat was mixing with what of it was on my chin, due to the warmth of the blankets. My legs were asleep from sitting so long, so it was a shaky process as I got to my feet.
My room was an absolute mess, and shards of glass were everywhere, so I had to be careful as I made my way to the door, though not the one that had been kicked open; the one that I had left open, my bathroom. Just as I thought I was in the clear, I felt a sharp object pierce the feel of my foot, and a small cry escaped me. I quickly shuffled my way into the bathroom, favoring my right leg due to my new injury.
I looked into the mirror once in the room, and balked at my appearance. A good portion of my lip seemed to be gone, bitten off when the gun rammed into my stomach. The would itself was almost black from the dry blood crusting it. The trail of dark liquid went down my chin, neck, and chest, dipping below my shirtline. I lifted the hem of my shirt, to reveal where I'd been hit by the butt of the gun. Even now it was bruising, some parts of it blue, the rest purple. I gently touched a finger to it and winced at the pain that even that gentle touch caused.
I wasn't just here to take stock of my injuries, however. I opened a drawer, under the bathroom's marble sink and pulled out a white washcloth. I turned on the sink and let the water run over the cloth, dampening it. The cool cloth easily mopped up the blood, leaving my slightly tanned skin clean once more. I rinsed the cloth again before gently dabbing at my lip. After doing as much as I could to clean my lip, I hobbled over to the tub, making sure not to let my heel touch the ground. I lowered myself onto the lip, and turned my foot slightly so that I could see my heel. I couldn't do much about it myself, as I'd need a doctor to remove the shard.
I sat for a moment longer before glancing at the bathroom's window. It was covered with blinds to provide privacy for whoever was using the room. I scooted along the edge of the tub and reached out, moving the blinds so that I could see outside.
The sun was beginning to set; my parents would be home soon. I wouldn't have to explain much, not with Ann dead and the injuries I received just from hiding. Soon enough, Ann and I would be just another statistic in a long list of killings and kidnappings sweeping the nation.
My gaze roomed down to the street, where I saw a nondescript white van, and I gasped: the group had never left. I got up to go hide again as I heard boots pounding as the men climbed the stairs. They must have heard my cry as the glass cut my foot. There was nowhere for me to run; nowhere for me to hide. The only way out was the way I had come, and the window, which was a suicidal decision.
Though I wouldn't have had time to even open the window, let alone jump out of it, as the moment I made to stand, a man in pure black, glasses, suit, boots, burst through the door, and his gaze landed on me. He crossed the room before I could take a step back. With of shove of the butt of his gun to my head, I was out like a light.