Stealing in the Second Degree

Chapter Two

I parked on a little road that was about one fourth a mile away from the house. I took off my black hat and shook out my red waves of hair. My head was sweating, even in the chilly night. I was nervous tonight. I wondered why.

I began to walk, the moonlight guiding my way. The night was romantic, and there was a soft breeze that seemed to bring a soothing essence to everything. I looked down at the ground, the pure beauty of nature was making me guilty. And I couldn't afford that.

I reached the tall house, which looked more intimidating then ever. The iron gate surrounding it had motion sensers on the very bottom of it, which were meant to go off if someone climbed over the gate and than landed on the bottom. Which was why I had a special method.

I climbed up the iron bars, my hands protesting at the harsh pain. I grabbed a branch of the oak tree that was spilling over the gate and pulled myself onto it. I hung there for a moment, before I swung with enough momentum to wrap my legs around the branch and pull myself onto it.

I had to admit, the bad-ass feeling that this supplied me with was adrenaline pumping, but it never lasted very long.

I shimmied over to another branch, and then another, until I was far away enough to jump down. I let out a little grunt as my feet impacted with the ground. I quickly jogged around the house to a little rose bush. I grimaced. This was the part I hated the most.

Next to the rose bush was a little, drilled shut window that led into the dark basement of the house. I pulled out my screw driver and began to take out the screws. I glanced at my watch. I had to hurry.

When the window was finally open, I tucked the screws into my pocket, and silently slipped myself into the basement.

This is where my flashlight came handy. I pulled it out and clicked it on, allowing a pool of light to lead me through the jungle of boxes and old furniture.

I found my way to the stairs and walked up them, slowly. Peeking around the corner, I made sure that the lights were off in the giant kitchen, and then made my way into it.

My breath came out in ragged pants as I walked into the living room. There were three leather couches, and a huge plasma screen television. I eyed it lustfully. Mac lap tops say on the coffee tables, next to boxes of pizza. I scowled. You would think they would know how to take care of their precious items.

But it wasn't the lap tops that I wanted. I looked up the grand stair way. Slowly, my gloved hand grasped one of the marble railings and tip toed up the stairs.

When I finally made it to the room, I opened the door and stepped over a creak that was in the hardwood floor, avoiding any unnecessary noise. My black boots suddenly met carpet, but I kept my eyes on my target.

The chest. I smiled and walked over to it, kneeling before it. I opened my sack, and then, the chest. The first thing I saw, were books. But I knew better than this. Biting my lip, I pulled the books out, one at a time, until there was a stack next to my knees. Then I reached my arms around the chest, feeling for the two little levers, that were very well disguised. My fingers found them, and I pulled.

The fake 'bottom' of the chest, pulled away and my eyes met stacks of bills, tied together with rubber bands. I let out a sigh of relief.

As I reached my hand in to pull the money out, I couldn't help but wonder how on earth these boys haven't figured out their money was slowly disappearing. It almost made me chuckle how irresponsible they must be. I pulled out the first wad and tucked it into my bag. Then another, and another. I put three in my jacket, near my chest, just in case.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps made me freeze and my muscles tensed up. I was as silent as death itself, not even allowing myself to breathe. But when I heard another creak, I flew into action. I pressed the levers, and then hastily put the books back into the chest.