Scott Blue POV
I open Mr Malute's garage quietly so nobody would hear it, but I soppose that it's impossible to hear it over thunder.
I was just lucky that the garage door wasn't locked. The door to the house was very much locked. I look at this tall drawer that was standing right against the wall, and searched every where inside of it for a possible key. I found the key towards the middle. I used the key, and hardly believing my good luck, I managed to open the door.
I was about to run inside, but I suddenly hear someone from outside yell out. "What are you doing?"
I turn around to notice Cassie Muller stood there in the rain, under a rainbow umbrella, but still. Why would she be outside wandering at midnight?
"Cassie Muller, you scared me!"
"Listen, loser, Gemma and Summer aren't even home. They're on vacation." She says grumpily.
"I know! That's the whole point!"
"What?"
"Don't tell anyone about this." I warn her.
"About.... what? You're robbing the Malute's house?" She smiles with a tiny hint of interest.
"No! I'm running away from home. Shhhh! It's very very secret."
She took a second and then yells, over the rain, "Do you have running away from home money?!"
"But you won't tell anyone!" I begged.
"No. I won't tell anyone." She sighed, "But if you really think that you're going to be able to flee the country, you need a car, because your two legs aren't going to do it."
She smiles quickly before continuing her walk.
There was a long hallway that leads to a living room. The kind with a brick wall around the fire place, and the T.V in a small cabinet. This would mean, you have to sit on the floor to watch it. The floral furniture was a rusty and yellowed with age, I guess.
The kitchen area was mostly made out of wood, and the cabinets were full. There was even one that was full of strawberry candies, and since I'm alone, I knew that I had to steal some.
I go upstairs to look at the bedroom options for sleeping. Mr Malute's was the neatest, but it was a little bit creepy. He has black and white framed photos all over the walls. There was a photo of himself, but, maybe, twenty years younger, sitting in the open trunk of some kind of car, and he was holding a small bear, it seems. I have no idea why he was able to do that, but I hope that the bear scratched his face.
The next picture was a somewhat recent picture of himself posing next to a cardboard cut out of himself.
What's really creepy is the picture of him standing outside a small tent, wearing a sleeping bag, and a unusual hockey helmet of his head.
What was creepier than that was a picture of himself, younger, like probably nineteen ish, posing next to a distorted Mickey Mouse Disney mascot. This man sleeps with that terrorfying picture in his bedroom every night? He has pictures of himself of roller-coaster, which is probably hard to actually take those pictures.
Then there was this one where he looked like a teenager. He was holding a bike. A really good white, clean bike next to a balding African American man who was tall, and maybe just a little threatening. They were standing happily infront of a building that in bolded words, said Peter Ofgrace's Bikes!
Weird. Why did the name Peter Ofgrace sound familiar? I look in the small corner of the picture. It says, July 7th 1950. Then how is the name Peter Ofgrace so familiar?! This picture was taken so long ago.
