He was stood there. Watching me. What on earth is he doing with a… a… a camera? He started to record me moving about, I scuttle down below the curtain just so I could see him but without him being able to spot me. I wiggle my way down to my bed and pull my dressing gown towards my chest taking in its glossy coat and warmth as I wrap it around myself. I needed to be comforted, but mum was out so I couldn’t. I turned on some music instead. I started to dance, but I guess he got that on record too. I quickly shut the curtain and fell asleep. It felt like my life was going well until last night, I saw Mr. Herrit gardening in the morning. I smiled generously and he smiled back – watching my every move. My mum came outside and shooed me back in the house. I glared at Mr. Herrit again, and again until I decided: I'm going to ignore him from now on.
The next day, he left his house as per usual on a Sunday morning (to do the shopping). I had thought this through for a couple of days now. My plan:
I shall sneak in through his back door and look for evidence on his camera. For proof of his recording me the other night. Then take it down to the police station and report it.
I slyly walk out of the house hoping mum wouldn’t notice me – luckily, she didn’t. I walk to the garden and spend approximately 2 minutes on the swings in our garden just watching to make sure everything was okay to go ahead with my plan, then casually (but quietly) walk through to the hedge and stay in there for a couple of seconds before opening the planks of wood (the fence) so I could fit through and discover what I neededAs I got on the other side, I saw his back yard. It was a mess. There was wood everywhere, for a bonfire perhaps i whisper under my breath. It looked as if his garden was a dump site!
I was violated by the smell as I entered through his back door and into his house. At this point, I felt really nervy, however I saw something which intrigued me even further…
