He's My Bodyguard (REWRITING)

(1) Bad Luck

I had expected today to be another average day upon returning home from school, I never anticipated what I might be walking in to. I had not realized that someone had in fact broken into my home, and was currently still inside of it. I had not realized anything was out of the ordinary until it was much too late. I had taken the same steps up to my front door like I did every single day to find it wide open. Not only that, it appeared to be forced entry. I had always been a bit naive living a most privileged life unaware there was true evil. Being a foolish girl had its consequences but I was much too innocent on the dangers of the real world. I did not think twice upon investigating my potentially broken into home. That was my first mistake.

"Mom?... Dad?" I called nervously into the front entrance as I stepped over the shards of glass and dodged the splinters of wood protruding from the door frame cautiously. I took notice of the mess. Upturned tables, broken picture frames, but it wasn't until I saw the trail of blood leading into the kitchen I'd initially thought must've belonged to the thief my common sense kicked in and I decided to phone the police. With trembling hands I grabbed the cordless phone resting on a corner table that hadn't been tossed about to dial 911. Reporting to the police was always what I had been told to do if something bad happened but I never thought something like this could ever happen to me. I nervously tapped my foot as the dial tone sounded loudly in my ear. Assuming I was alone while I decided to make that phone call was my second mistake.

"Drop the phone." A strong dominant voice behind me ordered, making my blood run cold. Why had I not thought about the fact that the intruder could still be inside? I immediately dropped the phone just as the operator was picking up. I threw my hands up the second I heard the click of a gun behind me. The back of the phone flew off as it crashed on the tile floor along with any ounce of nerve I had left. "Turn around." I turned slowly looking up at the three masked men all dressed in black with heavy machinery in their arms. A scream was stuck in the back of my throat unable to force its way out. My mouth was incredibly dry and I felt hot tears leak down both cheeks immediately.

"Don't you touch her!" I heard my mother shout from the dining room with a tired breathy voice. She sounded injured which made my stomach clench tightly and I felt sick thinking of what these men had done to her. "Mom!" I couldn't help the panicked cry that anxiously escaped my mouth as I took a step toward her only to be threatened back in my place. "Don't fucking move!" The gun was suddenly brought back to my attention as I was faced with imminent death. I wanted to run to her but I knew that wasn't an option, not when these masked men could kill us both in a matter of seconds. Who were these people and what did they want with my family?

"Take care of her." The tallest man nodded to both of his henchmen who didn't even so much as hesitate to follow his command. It took me only a moment to register what he had meant by that, I was naive but had seen this in a movie. Pure adrenaline filled my veins as my fight or flight instinct kicked in for not only my life but my mother's life as well. I couldn't let them hurt my mother. My beautiful mother with gorgeous honey colored hair and a sugar cookie recipe to die for.

"NO!" I felt myself move without thinking, it was as if my head wasn't telling my body what to do anymore. My body was now acting out of instinct all on its own. I ran toward the dining room knowing it would most definitely be a failed attempt to stop even one of these men. Despite that fact I could not allow them to injure my mother anymore than she sounded to be. A strong arm caught me almost immediately. I did not have a fighting chance. The man pushed me to the ground roughly pressing my body into the shards of glass from a nearby vase that had been shattered in what I now knew was probably a struggle. A vase my mother had picked out from an expensive little China shop we'd visited earlier in the year while we were traveling. She fell in love with it the second she'd seen it and seeing it broken was the reality check I needed to understand what was happening. My life was coming to an end just as the vase had, in a million tiny pieces under me.