Could you please check my draft?

Hi there,
so we were given a homework to write some kind of story. And so I let my imagination flow and wrote this.
Could you please have a look at it and write what do you think about it? Also feel free to correct any mistakes you find or rewrite a sentence in case you don't like it - that would be really helpful. Thanks a lot
I stand motionless peering through the gap between the curtains. So far, no one has clicked about my hideout. I’m about to stop looking, but suddenly a movement catches my eye. A black car emerges from the dark, featureless night. Two tall and bulky men get off the car and head towards the entrance to the building my flat is in. Do they know my floor? Or they just know I’m here in this building and they’re just trying to find my flat? Questions start nagging at me and anxiety seizes me. In either case they’re knocking on my door very soon. As if on cue, I hear knocking on my door. Tap, tap. There is no way they can be at my door that soon or, is there? Tap, tap, tap. Should I open or pretend I’m not here? “Come on John! I’m in no mood for your stupid jokes. Open that goddamn door!! “ Relief floods me. I reluctantly step towards the door and hesitantly open them. I can see the man in front of me is startled. “Oh, you’re not him.” Jeez, of course I’m not him you idiot. “Do you happen to know where John lives?” I utter an concise answer and try to sound bored and groggy. “One store below. The same door as mine.” He gives me an appraising stare and replies: “Ok. Thanks a lot.” I ruminate asking him about the men I saw getting out of the car but decide against it. “No problem mate.” I respond as he starts to descend the stairs. How the heck can I get out of this building? It has only two exits. One is out since I don’t want to run into the two men chasing me plus the rear exit is locked and only the caretaker has the key since it is only to be used as an emergency exit. I get a strong feeling that I’m going to die tonight in this building. No, I’m not. I can’t. Not after what has happened recently. My death would be of no help to anyone except for my enemies. An idea pops out of nowhere. The roof. But what can I do there? Well, we don’t have any ladder on our housing unit. But I can jump since the roof of the next building is roughly five meters from that of ours. If I jump far enough, this might work. It has to. I open my door and stride towards the stairs leading to the attic. All of a sudden I hear the stomping of some heavy man. Not stomping but jogging. Crap. I dash upstairs to find out that the door leading to the attic is locked. I swear and frantically try to open them. The doorknob won’t budge. I try again and it doesn’t move even a little. I lose my patience and remember how my elder brother taught me to smash locked door with my leg. I kick the door with as much force as I can muster and they give in. Unfortunately, it has created a far lauder sound than I anticipated. I grope for the switch, but there’s none. I hear footsteps growing closer. I try to make out something in the darkness, but my eyes haven’t adjusted yet. Then I spot it. A ladder on the wall and on the top of it a trap door. Finally some luck. I climb up the ladder and try to open the hatch. But it turns out that it’s locked. What did I think? I can’t think of any different option but to hide. I probe the room for some suitable hiding places. The room is about ten metres wide and ten metres long with spartan furnishings. In the corner I spot something that looks like a good hiding place. I quickly hunker behind what looks like an old wardrobe. And then I pray. There is not much I can do now. Desperation and fear swell up inside me. I hear footsteps slowly growing closer and try not to scream because I’m scared stiff. Out of the blue the echo of the footsteps stops. I have a strange sensation of being hunted like a cat by a dog. All of a sudden, I hear almost an imperceptible sound. Someone is unlocking the trap door. No way. No one can be on the roof right now. I start to think that I’m hallucinating but then the hatch door opens and somebody jumps inside. I don’t even dare to breathe. But he doesn’t seem to hear or notice me. He begins to walk and as he is crossing the threshold, two men attack him. “There you are you little rat! No more running!” the taller man shouts. “Are you crazy? I don’t even –“he falls silent as he receives a slap on his cheek. I almost see the rage explode out from him. “You ***! “ he lunges at the second man but is stopped by the taller one. He tries to scream but they gag him and start dragging him downstairs. But wait a moment they were after me, weren’t they? I almost start laughing as it dawns on me. They’ve mistaken me for some random guy. In the dark he looked quite similar – he wore same black jacket and was almost the same height. Well, lucky me. As I get up, I quickly asses my situation. I estimated the distance to be four metres. But it’s definitely more. I peek over the edge of the roof. Bet my hat that the fall would kill me. I scrutinize the next building and the gap between the roofs. It’s too far. No chance I’d make it. But then I spot the ladder. I could jump and fall a few metres down and still would be able to catch it. It’s not the best idea I’ve had so far but definitely better than nothing. Anyway I should get moving. As if on cue, I hear two men arguing. “I said you it’s not him!” “Are you sure? The same jacket, circa the same height as the man in this photo. Must be him.” The taller man – perhaps he is the one in charge, snaps at him: “You plonker! You still think that James Wattson is Peter Red?” A sudden gust of wind absorbs the next man’s speech. I have to get going. It won’t take them long to figure out I’m still in the building. I try to calm my labored breathing. Inhale. Exhale. Slowly. Focus. I suck the air into my lungs and dash towards the edge. As I pick up the speed I notice that two men have stopped arguing since I can’t hear them anymore. Perhaps they’ve realized their blunder and are on their way up. I reach the edge and plunge myself into the void. For a moment I feel like a bird and for a while think that I’ll learn how to fly and will get far far away from this and everything will be the same as before. But as I spot the ground beneath me I quickly snap out of my haze. With relief I see that I’ve calculated my jump almost exactly. I grasp a rung of the ladder but I’ve had too much speed. I lose my grip, slam my knee to the rung below and then I find myself plummeting towards the earth. I desperately fumble for a purchase as my foot hits the ladder. I try to stop my fall by gripping to yet another rung of the ladder. I cling to it with as much force as I can possibly muster and almost get my arms pulled out of my sockets. But I sigh with relief as I find out that I’m hanging suspended and I’m not falling anymore. I carefully place my feet on the rung. I feel a twinge of pain in the knee which I accidentally banged to the ladder. I slowly start descending and think of the fact that by now I could have been nothing but a lifeless body sprawled on the pavement. I quickly shake that feeling and rather focus on the descending. I don’t want to find myself rocketing towards the ground again. As I reach the ground I scold myself for not taking anything with me. I have no other option but to run into the forest. Even one stupid match would be helpful. Unfortunately I have nothing but my clothes and my wits. Oh, and some skills from the survival camp I used to attend when I was younger. My mother would send me there out of sheer need to get rid of me for a week. I used to be a really playful and curious kid. I would be asking questions, running around the house or begging somebody to play with me. So it had to be great to have an empty and quiet house for a while. But then I would be back fooling around and doing my usual stuff. Those were the times when everything was neat, tidy and perfect. Oh God, I’d give anything to have them back. Hardly anybody would notice me in my black dress pacing towards the forest in the shadows therefore I don’t feel the need to check my back. I break into the run and start jogging towards the forest. My first night in the wild is going to be without fire, food or blanket, so I contemplate returning back to the flat to retrieve some things. I won’t last long without a bottle for water, a knife, matches or something to start a fire with and some useful gadgets like snares or traps. As I reach the forest I swivel my head around to find out that no one’s behind me. I escaped. I’m safe. For now,I remind myself.