She looked left, carefully watching her surroundings, a security guard heading towards the tills, people wandering looking at items children nattering. She looked right just a cleaner mopping up a spillage. She quickly rammed her green bubble jacket full of expensive moisturising creams. Zipping up her jacket she slowly turned, keeping her eye on the exit while holding the elastic tight at the bottom. Her eyes scanning every single person in the shop, twenty foot from the door she spots the security guard heading back from the tills. Should she run? She thought, but decided not. She quickly turned her back to the security guard; his strong musky cologne drifted past her nose as he walked passed making her heart race. This is it she turned back walking through the doors exiting the shop. The moment she stepped through the alarms started ringing. She took a deep breath and run, holding onto her jacket so tight made her fingers go numb. The security guard instantly turned back on himself, and saw the same girl he just walked past, running for her life out the entrance. Tunnel vision smothered her eyesight as she weaved and waded through the mass of people in the shopping centre, still clutching the top of her bubble jacket with one arm and the bottom with the other, praying that there wasn't an opening anywhere where the moisturisers would fall out of. Through the mass of people, she sees the golden light of day through the exit leading into the parking lot, where her getaway car should be sitting with the engine purring and driver ready. Since the shop she'd kept her eyes on the prize of just fleeing without getting caught, and as she glances over both shoulders to look behind her, there's a team of security guards running in at all angles homebound to detain her and pin her to the floor.
She scanned the car park looking for her ride with blurred vision from the sweat streaming from her forehead, she couldn't see no sign of the blue fiesta or the friend that help plan this robbery . In a panic from noticing the security guards still behind her she ran from the car park heading towards Dean Street leading into a large estate. The wrenching feeling in the pit of her stomach of her friend leaving her stranded made her want to puke.
Diving into back alleys that ended up being the rear access to houses, she saw one that was boarded up on this newly built estate, from someone's misfortune getting repossessed it was a wish come true for her to hide in there. Her thoughts being that it was too obvious for anyone else trying to find her to look in there, if the security guards or the police came it would be the last place they'd look as it seemed secure from the front, the standard double bluff. The rear door of the house in the garden looked like it had attempts of being broken into before, and in the background sirens echoed all around growing louder as they approached her whereabouts, so using the door that was left slight ajar and her skinny body frame to her advantage she snuck in to hide away. All the meanwhile still grasping a tight grip of her jacket, keeping the stolen goods close to her and safe, after all it'd be pointless getting this far to lose it all now!
The house was nearly in darkness only a small amount of light peaking through the gaps of the boarded up windows. She shuffled into the front room making sure she was alone, slowly taking steps from the front room to pear up the staircase the only sound was the squeak of her trainers. Her hearts still racing and her stomach still clenching. She sat down on the bottom step re-capping on what went wrong and why her friend wasn't there. She wiped the sweat trickling down her face with the sleeve of her jacket. She collected her thoughts and gave out a breath before reaching for her phone to call the missing friend. She dialled up his number, no answer! Her blood started to boil at the thought of being set up. She wasn't going to give up, the only hope was to sell the moisturisers in hope to inject her veins with heroin and take away the pain.
Twitching and shaking from her withdrawal symptoms starting to kick in and feeling satisfied that she wouldn't be caught now, she unzips her jacket and sprawls out all the products to the floor in the entrance hall, counting how many she acquired and what she could potentially make. Taking her jacket off, she throws it behind her on the stairs as she counted with her eyes, estimating how much she could make and how much heroin she could buy off of her dealer. Whilst counting, her phone rings loudly in her pocket, echoing through the hallways and staircase, the sound of her ringtone ricocheting off of the walls in the living room and getting lost in the kitchen at the rear. Sliding out the phone from her faded black coloured skin-tight jeans, she wipes off the remaining beads of sweat from her forehead, and her heart stops for a second reading who's trying to reach her.
