The next millisecond happened in slow motion. The gun fired, and I quickly moved my swords in to deflect the bullet. They did just that, and the bullet bounced back and hit the man in the hand, knocking his gun to the ground.

Through the broken window, I could hear the sirens of police cars. Good, someone was able to get to a phone.

The man before me, also hearing the sirens, gave me a dirty and annoyed look, as if he was trying to decide if he should run away or pounce on me. I steadied my swords, ready for either choice he made.

He seemed to have enough common sense to realize that he could not fit through the broken window. He turned and began to run away from the house, towards the woods. Taking a couple of steps back, I took a running jump and dove through the hole. Jagged glass tore at my dress and sliced my skin, but I ignored the burning pain as I landed on my feet in the grass and sprinted after the fleeing man. He and his cohorts had attacked my house and endangered the lives of my family. He was not going to get away from me so easily.

I chased him into the forest, where I lost him in the thick trees. I froze, listening around me. I could hear animals moving in the brush, the leaves dancing in the wind, the distant gunshots coming from my house, and the wailing sirens as the police cars sped through the streets. I closed my eyes and tuned all of these sounds out. Then I heard it.

Tiptoeing footsteps.

I quickly located the source of the sound and threw the sword in my right hand at it. I heard a male cry, and I opened my eyes. I had hit his right shoulder. Good, I thought to myself. A nonfatal attack.

I ran up to him, took my sword by the hilt, and pulled. He screamed as the sword came loose from his flesh and slid out of him. Blood spurted from the wound and onto my hand and dress, but I ignored it and held my sword up to his neck. I wouldn't kill him. I just wanted to see if I could make him talk.

"Who sent you?" I demanded to know. "Why are you attacking my house?"

He gave a single laugh, and I pressed the sword against his skin.

"Answer me!"

"Chrystal, get back!"

I turned to see who had called my name, and saw James running toward us. I smiled. Finally.

But the man behind me took my distraction as his saving grace. He expertly kick my legs out from under me, almost causing me to land on my swords. He stomped on my left hand, and took the sword from me. I glanced up in time to see my own blade swinging down on me.

I closed my eyes and braced myself, but the blade never came. Instead, I felt myself be lifted off the ground and the wind as I was moved away from the attacker.

I opened my eyes and looked up. Sebastian was holding me tightly, protectively. I smiled, and finally let myself relax a little, cradling my damaged hand in my other. I glanced back over to the man who still had my sword in his hands. James had him at gunpoint.

"Drop the weapon!" James demanded.

The man smirked, then threw my sword at James. I would have been worried, but the man had clearly never thrown a weapon of that size before, or maybe any size, really. The sword flew at James, hilt first, then ended up missing him completely.

I expected James to shoot him, but he had more self control than I thought. Maybe he knew the sword wouldn't hit him, and that was why he didn't seem fazed. He approached the now unarmed attacker and cuffed him.

Seeing the man apprehending, I finally relaxed completely and let the pain begin to make itself known. I groaned softly, leaning even more into Sebastian.

He loosened his protective hold on me and assessed the damage. There was the deep gash on my cheek, the tears in my dress and slices all over my body, and my injured hand.

James kept his gun out, while his other hand was holding onto the attacker. The police radio on his belt crackled to life, but I couldn't understand what was said. From James' sigh of relief, however, I could assume.

"The house has been searched and cleared. You're free to go back." James approached us, gasping when he finally noticed my injuries. "We should take her to the hospital. She-"

"No!" I cried, surprising James and stopping him mid sentence. "I don't want to go back to the hospital. I'm fine. Just a little scratched up."

James sighed. "Chrystal, your cheek is bleeding pretty bad. It probably needs stitches. You need to at least go see a doctor."

"Sarah can take care of me. Her parents taught her first aid and more. I'll be fine." I glanced up at Sebastian, then leaned against his shoulder again, staring down at my injured hand. "Please, don't make me go back there..."

Sebastian was silent for a long moment, and I could picture his grim face as he assessed the situation.  Finally, he answered, directing his attention to James. "We'll see what Sarah can do for her first. If she says Chrystal needs to go to the hospital, we will take her."

I saw James hesitantly nod out my peripheral vision, and I sighed to myself. I'd been to the hospital enough times in my life. I didn't want to go back.

"Well," James said, sounding defeated, "I'm going to take this one back to the others and we'll throw him in a car. I'm sorry this happened, Chrystal, I wish I'd..."

But I couldn't understand his words anymore. I felt myself becoming dizzy, and I soon passed out in Sebastian's arms.