Hello again. I apologise for not updating in forever. I started a YouTube channel. The name's ToffeeVids. There's a link in my profile if you wanna check it out. I vlog, mainly.
Thank you to SlightlyStrangeGirl for reviewing. You guys should definitely check out some of her stories. They are awesome. I seriously recommend them, they would really benefit you.
Back to the story I guess...
Layla's POV
We manage to figure out our course of action in a matter of seconds. Connor nods towards the window and I nod back; it looks like we're heading out. To be honest, there was no way we were staying in. The probability of someone dangerous outside is considerably less than the probability of someone dangerous inside. We tiptoe over to the window, careful not to step on a creaky floorboard. It would do no good to have them find us now. Connor puts his hand on the window handle and mouths "Three. Two. One.". He pulls open the window and I launch myself through it. I pull my knees up to my chest so that I can fit through. I shuffle to the right and watch as Connor does the same. He closes the window to the sound of someone running up the stairs. We scramble towards the drainpipe, my heart almost stopping every time Connor or I slips.
Connor goes down first, he'd be quicker down so it makes more sense. I give him a small smile as he lowers himself down. He's about halfway when I hear the window open. The intruder won't be able to see me from where they are, but the moment they climb out I'll be all too easy to spot. The drainpipe can only hold one at a time, so there's no chance of me climbing down. I'm gonna have to climb onto the window ledge to my left, smash the window and climb in. There's a chance that there's two of them and the other one could shoot me, but it's my best option at the moment. I sneak over to the window, listening to the sound of the intruder clamber out of the attic window. It's a man, heavily built, probably muscly. I hear the sound of a gun being loaded. Crap.
I lower myself down onto the window ledge, grimacing at the pressure being put on my broken arm. I'm trying not to cry out in pain. I dangle my legs about, searching for the ledge. I find it after a few seconds, I smile with relief as I shift the pressure from my arms to my legs. But as I try to crouch down on to the ledge, I lose my center of balance. I flail my arms about, desperately trying to regain it. My flailing is useless, my right leg slips and scrapes against the bricks below me. My jeans rip (that's annoying, they're my favourites) and I cry out as I feel my skin tear. There's blood gushing down my leg and I wince as I bring my leg up to the ledge. I'm sure he's heard me, I can hear his footsteps come towards me. Crap crap crap.
I kick the window as hard as I can with my good leg. It cracks. I kick it again and it shatters. I climb in. Gunshots echo behind me as I race out of the room (whilst limping) and down the stairs. I hope Connor's ok. He could've been shot. I'm so stupid, why'd I have to go and lose my balance? Stupid. As I reach the door I hear footsteps behind me. I open the door and rush around the house to where I think Connor might be. I'm right, he's there, blood pouring from his arm. He's been shot...it's all my fault. I rush towards him. I feel tears roll down my cheeks. I grab his good arm and pull him away from the house. He seems to be in shock.
"Come on!" I shout at him "He's right behind us! We have to get out of here!" Connor seems to come to it and nods at me. We start running, I don't know where. We have to get away. We're injured, so we're not exactly fast. I can hear the guy behind us. I refuse to look back. I'm willing myself to go faster. Why hasn't he shot at us yet? He wants us alive. But why not cripple us? He wants us to be able to move. He's planning something later. Oh God. Please no. I can feel him gaining ground. He'll be on us any second now. Keep going. Someone will save us. Someone has to.
I see an alley to our right. I push Connor into it. He stumbles, but runs into the alley. He thinks I'll follow him, but instead I turn around and punch our attacker in the face as hard as I can. He is blonde, skinny, but somehow still muscly. There is blood dripping from his nose as he snarls and grabs my broken wrist. He twists my arm behind me and throws me onto the floor. The world is going black. For Pete's sake not again...