The Thief

June 8, 2010
By Athenaollie BRONZE, Seattle, Washington
Athenaollie BRONZE, Seattle, Washington
3 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Jerry was a mischievous young boy who was a lowly servant. He was small and dirty, his clothes torn and never clean, and he had short, straight brown hair that was always a mess. He served a lord who owned the nearby village. The village was poor and rough, with houses that seemed ready to fall apart at the next breeze. The village generally produced only enough to survive.

This fact did not, however, sway Jerry from his habit of taking whatever he wanted from the villagers. His chosen object was usually a valuable, like a little piece of jewelry that had been passed down through the family for generations.

With this in mind, it would be no surprise that troublesome Jerry was creeping through the village after dark one night, sneakily tiptoeing towards his goal- a delicate gold necklace. Upon reaching the owner’s house, Jerry softly opened the doors to a dark, dark kitchen and swiftly made his way through the halls.

Suddenly, he heard the light smacks of slow footsteps accompanied by the tap tap tap of a cane. An old man’s voice called out, “I know you are there, boy. Even though I cannot see you, I know you are there.” The boy sped up, attempting to get away from the haunting voice. Jerry soon entered the room where he knew the necklace was. His heart raced, for the eagerness of claiming his prize, and for fear of the old man. But it was so dark- so dark! No light, no lamp, nothing that allowed him to see the shapes of his surroundings. Jerry felt his way to the necklace and quickly snatched it up. But not quick enough! The tap tap tap of the cane was growing even louder, throbbing in his head. Wild with fear, Jerry looked for a way out. There was none- none but the door through which the old man was entering. “I know you are here, boy.”

Suddenly a light was lit, and the revealed scene was eagerly snatched up by his frantic eyes. The old man was by the door, a lamp next to him on the small table, his cane in one hand. Jerry’s eyes were not caught on these objects- no, they halted their frenzied searching when they saw the object in the man’s other hand. A knife! A knife! With Jerry’s eyes locked on the blade that was glinting with the lamplight, the old man lunged toward him. As he lunged, the lamp was knocked over, plunging the house once again into complete darkness. A scuffle could be heard, then a sharp scream that was quickly cut off, and finally, the tap tap tap of a cane retreating in the darkness.

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