Definitely, Maybe, Sometimes. | ✔️ COMPLETED

Chapter One

FRESHERS - SIX WEEKS LATER

I wake in the middle of the night completely baffled as to where the hell I am. It takes a while for me to get my bearings. Until finally, I register I'm in my dorm.

Bleary eyed, I look around the room.

I'm curled on my bed with the latest book I'm reading by my head, the light still on. Dread fills me. My first proper night at uni and I've wasted it alone. What a loser.

Then I realise what woke me. 

Someone is trying to break in.

The insistent ratting of the handle is loud. It's intermittent. When it stops again, I let out the air I'm holding and stare at the knob. Maybe I imagined it? Maybe I dreamt it?

Gaze locked, I wait for it to move again. When it doesn't, I assume it wasn't real or it was just a drunken Fresher who has forgotten what room is theirs.

Satisfied there's a simple enough answer, I decide I should probably turn the light out and get a decent night's sleep. I can try and make friends tomorrow, I guess.

The moment I reach across to my desk to my lamp there's a thump on the door, like someone is barging it with their shoulder. It's so loud it makes me jump.

Someone is definitely trying to get in.

I'm frozen in fear, too scared to even breathe. My brain is blank. I've always thought I'd be someone who is good in a crisis... Clearly fucking not.

A muffled voice on the other side of the door says something and then the handle starts jiggling again.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Thousands of students in this uni, hundreds in halls, and it just has to be me who is going to be murdered or robbed, or whatever, on the first day.

I don't move from the bed. I'm not entirely sure what I can do. If I call the police the robber will hear me which might make them speed up. There's nowhere to escape. I'm six floors up and the window doesn't fully open (besides, I don't have a great track record with windows).

I'm a caged animal with a possible hunter on the other side of the door.

I can squeeze myself into the wardrobe but surely that will be the first place they look? It's the only noteworthy place to hide. The second option is under the bed, but I've seen enough horror films of people being dragged out by their feet. I don't even want to risk it.

I'm out of options, really.

I can either sit and hope they go away, sit and wait for them to succeed, or face them head on.
I don't like the sound of any of them, but the waiting for them to go away seems to be my best bet.

I hear a second voice from the other side of the door as if there's a conversation going on. I gently pluck my phone from the table, clicking it on. It's only seven-thirty p.m, hardly the best time for a murder to take place (not that there's ever a good time, but the middle of the night seems a better fit).

Halls must be pretty busy. Busy enough they wouldn't get away with it.

Heart practically in my mouth, I stand.

It could be worse, they could have already broken in. They could have been extremely smooth and done it without waking me. They could have done it at a time no one would be awake, so any calls for help would be ignored.

But they didn't.

I arm myself with my umbrella and stand poised, ready to attack. I've never even been in a fight before but I'm ready to go gun-ho to survive.