Played By My Enemy | Teen Ink

Played By My Enemy

January 19, 2019
By WyloTree BRONZE, Carlisle, Pennsylvania
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WyloTree BRONZE, Carlisle, Pennsylvania
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Favorite Quote:
Dreaming is not Living, Failing is not Quitting, Fame is not success, and Money is not Wealth.
- WyloTree


Author's note:

The following is an excerpt from the prolouge:

“Stop! F.B.I!”

I gasped as a bullet whizzed past my ear. Shane hit the alley door first. He threw it open and held the door for his me.

“AZERA, HURRY!!” Shane screamed. The F.B.I agents had finally made it to the door. Another bullet passed me and hit the wall. I flung myself out the door in time for Shane to slam it shut. I scrambled up as Shane grabbed my arm. He ran, dragging me along with him. We ran across a busy street, cars swerved and honked at us. Shane pulled out his phone.

“Tack where are you!” He yelled into it.

A black SUV pulled to a sudden halt before us.

“Tack!” I yelled. I could hear the pounding of feet behind me. The SUV door slid open and we jumped in. As soon as we were in the car, the door slid shut and Tack floored it.

“What were you to thinking! Did you know the feds would show up?” Tack yelled, glancing back at us. Tack swerved around cars and kept going.

“Do you think we would know the feds would show?!” I growled.

Tack was an old criminal friend. Shane and I met him about a year ago when we were trying to steal the same golden ring from a gallery in California. Tack was tall, had tan skin and brown hair. He was around sixteen. Since the three of us met we had been friends.

Shane huffed, his messy black hair covered his deep blue eyes. He glanced at me and smiled. “Where are we going?” He called to Tack.

“Virginia, I know a place to hide out for a bit. Decide what we're doing next.”

“Ooh! I heard there was a showing of rare artifacts there.” I smiled cunningly. Tack glared back at me, and  Shane let out a bark of laughter.

“Did you get the cash at least?” Tack questioned, as he flew off a highway exit.

“Not all of it, but we think we got at least fifteen million,” I replied.

“Good, we’ll need to stop in about an hour for gas. There should be some blankets in the back.” Tack was implying that we could finally take a cat nap. Shane reached back and pulled two heavy blankets. He handed one to me and put one over Tacks shoulders. Tack had slowed down a bit now that we had lost the feds. He was going about seventy. I snuggled deeper into the seat and thought that maybe, just maybe, our lives of crime weren't meant to be.

 

 

Three Years Prior

There was a soft thud as my feet landed just inside the window. My partner and I, Shane Griffin, were currently breaking into a large apartment in New York City. Though we were only fourteen Shane and I had made names for ourselves in the criminal world and the law.

Shane and I met over two years ago, we were just two kids abandoned at an orphanage. We were barely ten then, and we were still best friends. We were the only family we had, the two of us ran away when they were ten. Since then we had been the perfect criminals.

Currently, we were breaking into the apartment of Chloe Flareton, a rich widow who inherited over twenty million after her husband's death.

There was another thud as Shane entered the room with two briefcases. I watched as he unhooked his harness and dropped it to the floor. We had ziplined from the empty office building across the street.

“You ready?” He whispered, pulling out a set of  lock picks in a leather case. Shane kneeled before the dark door that would lead into late Mr. Flareton's office. The vault was located in the office. Once we had the money we would package it in the two briefcases Shane had brought over. We would then zip line back over and hide out at one our safehouses.

There was a click as Shane unlocked and opened the door. I slipped inside the office as Shane kept watch. The office was large with a mahogany desk and brick fireplace. A beautiful Canaletto painting was sitting significantly on the far wall to the left. A large window,  covered by drapes, was on the right wall. I smirked, this would be easy. I quickly took the Canaletto off the wall, revealing a large Champion steel safe. I put my ear the lock and very slowly started to turn the dial to the right. As soon as I heard the soft click I turned the dial to the left. As soon as the second click could be heard, I turned it back to the right. The door of the safe slowly cracked open as the last click resounded.

“Shane!” I whispered. Shane brought in the two briefcases and we started to stuff them with the stacks of hundreds. Piles upon piles of hundred dollar bills could be seen deep into the safe.

“Hurry, we need to get out quick,” Shane mumbled. We shoved two more packs into the first briefcase before Shane shut and locked it. We were hardly through the second when the loud shriek of sirens filled the still night air. Shane cursed, “The feds!”

Shane closed the second briefcase and ran back to the window. “Come out peacefully and we won't shoot!”

“Great it's the fed.”

Alex Masaught was a federal agent. He had spent the past eight months trying to find and arrest us. Fortunately, they still hadn’t ID us yet, so, for the time being, we were safe.

“We can't zip line back over, they’ll shoot us!” I said, fear coursing through me. By this time we could hear the pounding of footsteps down the hall.  

“We’ll have to take our chances, we’ll go together.” Shane helped me with the harness, and when we were both connected to the line we each picked up a case.

“On three. One… two… three!” Together we jumped out the window. As the cold crisp air hit my face, I could see the blazing city lights and cop cars below. Humorously, none of them had even bothered to look up. I watched as Shane landed cleanly on the other building with his briefcase. I landed just mere seconds after. We quickly stripped ourselves of the harnesses and picked the briefcases back up. This was as close to getting caught as we had ever been before. We quickly ran to the stairwell door. I took the lead down the stairs and into a hall. It was too risky to take the elevator so I led Shane down the many flights of stairs. Twenty to be exact.

“Come on!” I called back to him, he was starting to lag behind. We ran down another hallway. We were almost at the last flight of stairs.

“F.B.I!”

The front doors of the building had burst open a floor or two below us. We dove into the nearest office. There was the pounding of feet in the hall.

“Check every office and room! They could be anywhere!” A man's voice yelled. It was F.B.I agent Alex Masaught. Shane and I looked around. Shane grabbed my arm and pointed up. I followed his gaze. The ceiling was made of some sort of tile!

I smiled and quickly climbed up on one of the desks. I pushed up on the tile and slid it to the side. Shane passed up the briefcases. I placed them in the ceiling and looked back at my partner. He gave me a boost up.

“In here!”

They were getting closer.

As soon as I was safe I helped pull Shane up. He replaced the ceiling tile just as the door burst open.

“Check every inch!”

We waited in bated breath. Finally, “Clear! They’re not here.”

I didn't know I had been holding my breath until Shane touched my shoulder. “They’re gone.” He whispered. He lifted the tile once more and passed it over to me. He dropped down to the office floor. I dropped the briefcases down and proceeded to jump down after them.

“You sure they’re gone?” I asked, taking hold of my money again.

“Positive. There's a backdoor downstairs. We can exit that way.”

Shane and I looked down each hallway before running down it. Once we made it to the ground floor Shane led me past the reception area and into a door marked for employees. Shane opened the door and let me go in first. At the end of the hall was a thick door leading into an ally.

“F.B.I! Stop where you are!”

I glanced back, three feds led by Alex Mesaught were running across the reception area. Right to where we were standing.

“Run!” Shane yowled. Together, we bolted down the hallway.

“Stop! F.B.I!”

I gasped as a bullet whizzed past my ear. Shane hit the alley door first. He threw it open and held the door for his me.

“AZERA, HURRY!!” Shane screamed. The F.B.I agents had finally made it to the door. Another bullet passed me and hit the wall. I flung myself out the door in time for Shane to slam it shut. I scrambled up as Shane grabbed my arm. He ran, dragging me along with him. We ran across a busy street, cars swerved and honked at us. Shane pulled out his phone.

“Tack where are you!” He yelled into it.

A black SUV pulled to a sudden halt before us.

“Tack!” I yelled. I could hear the pounding of feet behind me. The SUV door slid open and we jumped in. As soon as we were in the car, the door slid shut and Tack floored it.

“What were you to thinking! Did you know the feds would show up?” Tack yelled, glancing back at us. Tack swerved around cars and kept going.

“Do you think we would know the feds would show?!” I growled.

Tack was an old criminal friend. Shane and I met him about a year ago when we were trying to steal the same golden ring from a gallery in California. Tack was tall, had tan skin and brown hair. He was around sixteen. Since the three of us met we had been friends.

Shane huffed, his messy black hair covered his deep blue eyes. He glanced at me and smiled.

“Where are we going?” He called to Tack.

“Virginia, I know a place to hide out for a bit. Decide what we're doing next.”

“Ooh! I heard there was a showing of rare artifacts there.” I smiled cunningly. Tack glared back at me, and  Shane let out a bark of laughter.

“Did you get the cash at least?” Tack questioned, as he flew off a highway exit.

“Not all of it, but we think we got at least fifteen million,” I replied.

“Good, we’ll need to stop in about an hour for gas. There should be some blankets in the back.” Tack was implying that we could finally take a cat nap. Shane reached back and pulled two heavy blankets. He handed one to me and put one over Tacks shoulders. Tack had slowed down a bit now that we had lost the feds. He was going about seventy. I snuggled deeper into the seat and thought that maybe, just maybe, our lives of crime weren't meant to be.

Chapter 1


I sat up as my alarm clock blared off into the darkness called my bedroom. I took a deep breath and reached out to shut the alarm off. It was around 5:00 A.M. It was another Monday morning in high school.

After the bad heist three years ago Shane, Tack, and I decided to hide all the money and say goodbye. I don't remember the exact location, but it was somewhere in Virginia. Tack found us an old cabin there, we hid out for weeks until the decision to split up was made. I don't know exactly where the others went, but I doubt they went back to New York. It was hard for a fourteen year old to make on their own.

First, I had to steal money to pay rent for the small cramped apartment, and buy some fake IDs, but once I turned fourteen I got a job at a cafe’. They paid me 12 dollars an hour.It didn’t add up to much a year, but I survived. I chose to live in the small town of Arendtsville, Pennsylvania. I went to small Ravenwood High school, and decided to keep no friends.

I practically rolled out of bed and stumbled through the darkness until I located the light switch. As soon as the apartment had been illuminated I walked briskly to the kitchen. The apartment consisted of four small rooms. The kitchen, bathroom, bedroom, and laundry room. The kitchen was the biggest room in the apartment, it had whitewashed walls and a small table. The sink was a small metal box and the fridge, in reality, was really only a mini fridge. Three cupboards held paper plates, cups, and plastic silverware. I had to buy jugs of water and only ate the little boxes of cereal you could buy at Walmart. I ate my dry cereal quickly and went back to my room to get ready. Most of the time I wore jeans and tee shirts, but today I wore blue skinny jeans and a gray shirt. The only shoes I owned were sneakers and combat boots. Today I fancied the combat boots.

I brushed my hair and pulled it back with a black hair-tie. I washed up in the bathroom before grabbing my old jean jacket and bag at the door. I turned off the lights and locked the door behind me.

As I stood on my empty front porch I could see the blue mountains in the distance. I would be lying if I said I didn’t miss them, or wonder why the feds hadn't gotten me yet, but I wasn't complaining. I smiled and walked down the vacant sidewalk on my way to school. It was a cold morning, and as I passed into the more lively and populated part of town I could see some stores starting to light up. The cafe’ shop I worked at wouldn’t open for another hour or two. The old streets were pretty much empty, except for the early risers on there way to work. I passed through the small black gate at the entrance and walked right into the squat building known as Ravenwood High.

Not many students were here at 6:00 A.M, but the ones that were stayed clear of me.

“Good Morning Mrs. Jones.” I stated as I walked past the secretary. “Hello Angela. How are you this fine morning?” Mrs. Jones replied looking up from her computer. I forgot to mention I changed my name. Angela Carter had seemed like a good one at the time.

“Oh I’m fine. Are the classrooms open yet?” I asked.

Mrs. Jones only smiled, “Yes, though the library is closed today.” The secretary said thoughtfully.

“Ok thanks.” I continued on my walk down the dreary gray walls and passed the beige lockers. The walls were covered in posters and the trophy cases were already overflowing. My locker was at the end of the last hall in the school. I always seemed to be late to every class because of it. Every class except first period that is. I opened my locker without even having to look. The school seemed to think they were hard to get into, but these were the simplest locks I had ever seen, or heard of. I found all of the papers I would need for my math class before I closed my locker door. I wandered the halls for bit until I decided to go to class. By the time I made it up the stairs and into the low ceiling math room, it was 6:30. School, of course, didn't start until 7:30, so I had a good half an hour to spare.

At 7: 28 the math teacher, Mr. Talbot, walked in. “Ah, Angela! Here early again I see.”

I looked up from my papers. “Yes, of course.” I stated, looking back down at my papers.

“You do know class doesn’t start until 7:30, right?” He said, sitting down at his desk.

“I know.” I said curtly.

“And your parents are okay with you being here this early?” Mr. Talbot asked.

“Of course.” I lied. The teacher nodded and started picking through papers, making marks as he went. I sifted through my papers looking for something to do. I found my homework from last night. Seeing that I didn’t finish it, I took a pen from my pocket and continued until I was finished.

By this time, it was 6:52. Any moment know. As if on cue the halls erupted in the pounding feet of students. Mr. Talbot dropped the paper he had been grading and sighed, “They always have to come in like a herd of animals.”

I snorted, “More like a herd of mephitic animals.”

Mr. Talbot laughed, “You aren’t lying Angela!”

It was true! They smelled like wet animals on a hot day in the zoo. At that chosen moment, the door opened and students, yelling and laughing, entered the room.

“Good morning!” Mr. Talbot had to yell to be heard. Once everyone had been seated, Mr. Talbot yelled for order. “Pass your homework up!” He called.

I snatched my paper and threw it to the guy in front of me.

“Andrew!” A girl shrieked. I whipped my head around, followed by everyone else.

“It wasn’t my fault this time Skylar!” The boy who must have been Andrew yelled.

“Mr. Talbot! Andrew ripped my paper!” The girl, Skylar, yelled.

“Well, what do you want me to do? You gave it to Andrew, Andrew ripped it.” The teacher stated.

“Expel him or something!” Skylar complained, snatching her paper pieces from Andrew.

“Miss Prescott we do not expel students for ripping papers.” Mr. Talbot said, exasperated. I couldn't help but think I was stupid for coming here. Applying to high school and college, sitting in boring classes, and dealing with impotent students. I gave up a life of crime and thrill for this. I gave up my best friends for this. I gave up everything I had build for myself, and this girl was complaining about a paper! A paper!

“When you really think about, it’s not really Andrews fault you were stupid enough to give him your paper.” I said thoughtfully. Some of the students had to muffle their laughter. “Besides, all you do is complain, complain, complain! Suck it up and stop acting like an insolent, cheeky brat!” I added, smirking.

“Miss Carter!”

I turned, “Do you want to complain too? It seems everyone just wants to complain today!” I stated in mock exasperation. By the look on Mr. Talbots face, I knew I had screwed up. Mr. Talbot was fuming.

“You do not have the right to be insulting other students in this classroom-”

I cut him off. “Oh my apologies! I didn't mean to interrupt this very important class that nobody really cares about.”

“Miss Carter I must ask you and your rude, interruptive behavior to leave!” Mr. Talbot seemed surprised that I, of all people, would be quote unquote rude and interruptive. I laughed and threw up my hands, “With pleasure.”

I stood and sauntered out of the classroom, all eyes on me. I kicked the door back to slam as went. I, of course, went down to the stairs and into office. I sat down in one of the chairs closest to the door.

“Miss Carter? Can I help you?” Mrs. Jones asked, she had looked up from her work. Other secretary and assistants had watched me enter.

I shrugged, “Mr. Talbot kicked me out of the class.” I affirmed, holding my head high.

“He kicked you out of the class?” Mrs. Jones said indolently.

“Yep.” I popped the ‘p’ and kicked my feet back on the small square coffee table beside me.

“Angela Carter!” The principal, Dr. Wilcox, called from his office. I sighed, “I’m coming! I’m coming!” I yelled across the room, a tint of vexation to my voice. I stood up and put on my best cheeky smile. I knew I was only making it worse for myself, but I guess after all these years I was just ready to explode. I walked across the room, a hint of proudness to my step. Dr. Wilcox held the door open and pointed to the chair across from his desk. I sat down heavily. That's when it hit me. What if he wanted to call my parents? I didn't have any. If they found out I was living alone, they would freak and call social services. Then I would have to go on the run. I wouldn't only have the feds on my trail, but social service people too!

“Is it too late to say sorry?” I asked, as he sat down.

“Miss Carter, you acted out of line and interrupted a class in a very rude manor. You will serve a Saturday detention and apologize to the whole class.” Dr. Wilcox said sternly.

Now, Dr. Wilcox was not a very happy person to mess with. He was pretty tall, but large. He wore suits that looked much too tight, and his balding brown hair only added to the pile of sadness.

“Do not waste my time! I will call your parents and we can work out a time for you to come.” Dr. Wilcox folded his arms. Well, crap.

“Well, I’ll let you do that. Now if you don’t mind, I’ll go back to class.” I made a motion as if to leave.

“Miss Carter, I think it's best if you return home. I’ll be calling your parents tonight. Get anything you need from your locker and leave.” With that I practically bolted out of  the room and out of the office. I ran to my locker and sloppily unlocked it. I seized my bag and jacket only to slam the locker shut. I raced back in the direction of the office. Throwing the front doors of the school open, I ran before they could realise they didn't have my parents phone numbers.

I laughed and slowed to a walk as I got to the busy sidewalk. I had gotten out trouble, again.

I sat on my small bed with a thump. It had been two days since the whole ‘scene’ in the classroom. For the past to days I had called in sick. When I wasn't working at the cafe’ in the afternoon, I was working on the whole parent phone number thing. I called my phone company and set up another phone number for a Charlotte Carter, A.K.A my new, fake mother. Of course Charlotte Carter was not a real person, but I had experience with creating fake identities. I had set it all up. If the phone number was called it would go to my phone. If I couldn't answer, it would go to fake Mrs. Carter's voicemail. If she was looked up, they would only find a self employed mom that planned birthday parties for a living.

My plan was to go back to school tomorrow and give them the fake phone number when they asked for it. It was the perfect plan!

I set my phone down and went to the kitchen. I hadn't eaten all day and was practically starving. When I opened the door I saw I only had half a carton of milk, some bread, and less than half a jar of strawberry jelly. I took a deep breath and closed the door. I turned to my little table and dug through my school bag until I found my wallet. Inside, I had my student ID, my drivers license with my fake name, Angela Carter, some coupons, and about ten bucks in cash and change. I guess today was shopping day.

I pulled on some sneakers and my jacket, snatched my wallet and walked out the door. The town had plenty of stores, but I didn't want to walk far. The closest store was a little convenience store on a quiet back road. I kept my head low and walked swiftly to the food section. I took the cheapest peanut butter and jelly jars I could find. I grabbed a small box of cereal and a pint of milk.

As I walked up to the checkout section I noticed a shady looking man out the window, as soon as I looked his way he turned and walked the other way across the street. I shrugged and handed the lady at the checkout section my items.

“Shouldn't you be in school dear?” The woman asked, obviously curious.

“Naw, I wasn't feeling well today. Thought some fresh air would help. Just out to pick up some things for maw and pa.” I lied, added a little sniffle for effect. The woman smiled kindly as I handed her the cash.

“Thanks.” I said as she handed me the bag. I exited the store, the woman watching me the whole while.

Within the hour, I was sitting at my table eating a sandwich and drinking a small glass of milk. I was thinking about the guy I saw in the store window. Could it be an F.B.I agent who’s found me? Heaven forbid its Alex Mesaught! Maybe it was Interpol, or the C.I.A. What if it was some crazy social service investigator!

I finished up my little meal and decided to call in a much needed power nap. I stood and went to my room. Once I had found some more comfortable clothing, I crawled into bed to sleep.

It was around 4:47 A.M when I awoke. Normally I would get up at 5:00 to prepare for the school day, but because it was almost the said time I got up early. I dressed in my sneakers and jeans. I found a dark red sweater shirt I got about a month prier. I left my hair and down and ate my little cereal bowl. I stuffed my cafe’ apron at the bottom of  my school bag and shrugged on my jean jacket. Before long I would have to find a warmer one, winter was just around the corner and I did not want to be caught outside with my thin jacket. It was November after all. Once I knew I was ready, I stepped outside and locked my apartment door behind me.

It was darker than normal outside, seeing as it was 5:46. I couldn't see the blue mountains or even the sky in general, and it was much colder. It had to be about 28 degrees fahrenheit. I shivered and continued on my normal walk to school. It was harder to see this morning, for the ground was shrouded in cold, gray mist. I quickened my pace, it was pretty creepy this morning. Nobody was walking, and no cars  were on the road. Not even a stray cat was on the street.

    I stopped suddenly, the hair on the back of my neck was prickling. I slowly turned my head around. Standing about 40 yards behind me was a tall figure, shrouded in black and grey. The fog gathered about it in an unnatural way.

“Azera!” The figure hissed out at me. I gasped and broke into a sprint. I ran, my bag thrashing wildly on my back. “Azera wait!”

I didn’t wait. My feet pounded mercilessly on the hard cement. My breath came out in gasps and my heart beat furiously. I sprinted all the way to the high school doors. I threw one last glance behind me. The figure was gone, for now. I pushed the doors  open and practically slammed them behind me. “Angela?! What are you doing here so early? And slamming doors!” My french teacher, Madam Chase, was standing behind me, looking startled.

“Bonjour Madame Chase! Comment vas-tu?” I asked in french. I didn’t think asking her how she was doing this morning was going to help me in this situation, but it was worth a shot.

“Good Morning Angela. Why are you here so early?” She demanded. Great, just great.

“I’m good, I decided to jog here early this morning. I woke up really early. But why are you here? Most teachers aren't here this early.” I changed the flow of the conversation silkily.

“I had some work I wanted to get done before the others got here.” I saw her glance nervously back towards the main office.

“Oh? Are you pulling a prank! I would love to help!” I smiled energetically. If she was planning to prank someone, by offering help I could take her mind off my hasty entrance.

“I guess. I’m getting back at Mrs. Collins for the prank she pulled on me a few months ago. She hates the smell of  cranberries, so I put about ten car fresheners in her desk and office. I have about twenty more in my classroom.”

I sighed in relief and followed my french teacher upstairs. Hours went by, we pranked an angry Mrs. Collins and I went to my first period math class. I apologised to the class half heartedly and continued my day without any outbursts. At lunch I thought I was going to get through the day without having to see Dr. Wilcox, but my victory was short lived. Just before my final period, study hall, my name was announced over the intercom.

I rushed from my locker to the office, fake Charlotte Carter’s phone number burning in my pocket. I entered the office and greeted Mrs. Collins, who couldn't stay mad at me for long.

“Ah Angela, be sure not to tell Madame Chase I actually love the smell of cranberries.” Mrs. Collins smiled, holding up one of the many car fresheners. I stifled a laugh and continued to enter Dr. Wilcox’s office of doom. I sat down across from him and put up one of my famous cheeky smiles. He frowned.

“It seems we don't have either of your parents phone numbers, we ask you please provide us with one. The longer you take to cough it up will only make it worse for you.” Dr. Wilcox said plainly. Without replying I pulled the piece of paper that contained the phone number. I looked it over one last time before I gave it to him.

“Sir, I'll be late for my study hall. May I go?” I asked. Of course, he said no.

“No, you’re going to wait here while I call the number. If the number is a fake, tell me now.” When i didn't say anything, he picked up his phone and called the number. I sucked in my breath as it rang.

“The number you are calling is not available. Angela Carter will call back as soon as she is free. Press one for more options.”

I let out my breath in relief.

“Well, it seems your mother is busy at the moment. You may go Angela.” Dr. Wilcox nodded and I left the office in a haste. I checked the large clock above Dr. Wilcox’s door. It was 2:36, school would be out any minute. Who knew I had been in there so long! Instead of going back to class like I should have, I went to my locker and pack up my things. Just as I stood back up, my bag over my shoulder, the dismissal bell rang. I let out an airy laugh and made my way to the doors. I was able to get out of the building before the heard of crazy students got there.

I went from school right to the cafe’. ‘Atunci când la Roma Cafe’ was a Romanian cafe’ owned by a kind young woman who had grown up in Rome. The cafe’ was small, but popular. I entered through the back employee door and called out, “Hello! Miss Petală!” Miss Petal was the owner of the cafe’.

“Angela! I’m in the kitchen! Put on your apron and help the customers!” The rather short Miss Petal called to me. Her english was fluent, but she had a Romanian accent that made it hard to understand her. I set down my bag and pulled on my apron. I went through the kitchen waving to Miss Petal as I went. I went through the little door and rushed over to the customer area. I seemed to be taking orders left and right. Petal and some other workers were going on overtime trying to please everyone. At some point I had to jump in, making latte’s and taking orders at the same time. After about an hour the rush was over and things quieted down considerably. By 7:20 P.M the place was pretty much empty. Most of the employees had left so it was just me and Petal.

“Thanks for all the help today Angela. I stuck your paycheck in your bag. If you set your apron in the back I’ll wash it for you.” She offered.

“Oh thanks!” I smiled and took off the apron. “Oh and by the way, a young man came in here today looking for you. Around lunch time. I told him you wouldn't come till’ later because you were in school. I hope that was okay.” Petal informed me lightly. A shaft of fear went through me. The man in the window was still looking for me!

“Thank you Miss Petal. I should be on my way. I should get some rest before school tomorrow.” I smiled at her and snatched my bag from the back room, i tossed my apron on the table and hurried out the front door. The streets were brightly lit and people were taking evening strolls with friends and family. I rushed down the street, trying to stay in the light of the street lights. I hurried down the empty streets and feared the already darker sky. My footsteps echoed around me as I ran. Only two more streets until home. Truly I didn't know why i was scared. I only knew that that guy was trouble, and I need to get away. My apartment was with in sight by now, but as I neared I slowed to a walk. My apartment door was cracked open, no lights were on and muddy boots had wiped themselves on my doorstep. The reality of the situation hit me hard.

Someone was in my house.



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