Letters Of The Unstable

2

   In and out, it'd be really quick- so Marsh said. But did I get any fair warning that I'd end up in a wardrobe, waiting for the old man to pass out on the couch? No. I was under the impression that all I would have to do is break in, steal some shit, and go.
   'Blip in the plan' Marsh called it. The old man came rattling down stairs and had been sitting on his love-seat for an hour and a half, staring blankly at the glowing screen in front of him. 
I could see his shoulders quake every time he took in a breath. Eventually I lost sense of time as I stared into the nothingness at the back of his couch, the Jeopardy theme echoing around me.
    When I came to again, his silhouette was gone. I took this as my chance and crept out of the wardrobe and up the stairs. I didn't know or care what was costly, I just wanted to get the hell out of there. I went from room to room, scooping shit into a bag and checking for the ole red, white, and blue whenever I passed a window. 
    Finally, the bag was full enough to get at least 200 out of. I cautiously came down the stairs. The TV was still on and the sound buzzed irritatingly as its light illuminated the room. I crossed the living room and picked up the remote to turn it off. Old man was already getting robbed- no reason he should be paying a crazy electric bill. 
   I clicked the power button and heard a crunch. I looked down to where I had placed my foot and dug my hand into my bag in search of my flashlight. When I fished it out, I shined the light at my feet and reeled backwards, stumbling over the couch. 
   There he was, on the ground. No longer shaking with breaths. His cold dead eyes stared up at nothing and his mouth was agape. My foot had crushed his hand in an unnatural way. I ran, gathering my things up and dashing out of the house. I regretted turning that TV off. I regretted straying from my plan. He wouldn't have been paying a power bill again anyways.