#9.2 Someone Breaks Into Your House: Luke

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Your POV

Luke was fast asleep, but I couldn't fall asleep, no matter how hard I tried. Usually, Luke's soft snoring lulls me off to sleep like a lullaby, but not tonight. My body was tingling like something was going to go wrong, but I couldn't think of anything that could go wrong. Luke's asleep, and everything is silent.
Eerily silent.

Hang on, did I lock the front door? I can't remember.

I tried to get out of bed, but Luke's strong arms had another idea.

"Nooo," he groaned. "Don't leave me."

He was still half asleep, and I really don't want to leave his side. I have to check the front door, though!

"Luke," I whispered, "did we lock the front door?"

"I don't know, but don't worry about it," he mumbled. "I'm sure we'll be fine."

"Luke, I need to check!" You said firmly.

"Noooo. No, you don't. I'll do it instead," he grumbled.

He more or less fell out of the bed rather than sit up and get up, and he shuffled to the door. He silently walked out of the door, but quickly returned, quietly shutting the door and locking it.

"Luke," I whispered, "I meant the front doo-"

"Shush!" He said so quietly I almost couldn't hear him. He covered my mouth with his hand, and he looked me in the eye fearfully. "There's someone in the house!"

I froze. There's someone in the house? We didn't lock the front door, did we?

"I swear I locked the front door! They must've picked the lock! We're calling 911 right now. The bathroom is the hardest to hear from the bottom floor, so let's hide in there," he thought out loud to himself. He took my hand, dragging me into the bathroom with his phone.

He dialled the number, and explained everything to the man (sorry I'm just too lazy to actually type the conversation) about the person downstairs.

We waited for what felt like hours, listening to the figure breaking a few things downstairs. Luke held me on his lap protectively, and he kept whispering things, like "I love you, it's all gonna be alright, I promise."

We then heard footsteps coming up the stairs as the police sirens wailed loudly in the distance. "Ahhh, you guys think you're so smart, calling the police," a foreign woman said in a French accent. (Okay, I don't want to offend anyone because the woman is French. I just grew up watching movies where all of the bad people are like German or Italian, and I wanted to mix things up a bit. I'm in Spanish class rn, so that's just what came to mind. Sorry if anyone's offended)

She picked the lock of our bedroom door skillfully, and she busted in the door. The police sirens pulled into our driveway, and the lights flashed in our bathroom window's curtains. Guns cocked as the police got out of their cars and ran into the house.

The woman busted into the bathroom, and Luke protected my most vital body parts. The woman pulled out a gun, laughing before pulling the trigger, shooting Luke in the forehead, and Luke's arms fell to his side, leaving my body vulnerable. I looked at Luke for a fraction of a second before turning my head to see the end of a gun, and a bullet that split through my forehead in slow motion.

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