Blog: The Thief, part 7

Connor Oswald, JagWire reporter

They waited for a second, the guard tapping his foot to some hidden rhythm. Impatient, he reached out again and knocked on the door, louder this time. A voice suddenly echoed from the inside of the house, calling out to the guard and boy.

“All right, all right, I’m coming.”

The guard took a couple steps back from the door, while the boy glanced around furtively, suddenly looking for escape routes. The door swung open, carelessly crashing into the outside wall.

“Oh,” the lady at the door said, her voice ringing with recognition. She nodded her head at the guard and beckoned himself inside with a quick nod of the head. The guard grabbed the boy’s arms and started towing him towards the door. While they were squeezing past the lady the boy felt her inquisitive stare scouring him. The kid gulped nervously and wished that he had made use of those escape routes he found earlier.

The house creaked and groaned under their feet. It was build out of worn-down flooring and walls with paint paling and peeling off the walls. They walked through one of the house’s cramped hallways, and the boy detected small signs of life adorning the floor. An old sock abandoned in the corner, a few toys scattered and there.

“Everyone but Miss. Dower is in the back,” the lady spoke. The guarded nodded in comprehension while the boy scratched his head, even more confused. Soon, they took a quick turn and ended up facing a pair of gray wooden doors that stretched up to the ceiling. The lady spoke again.

“Just head right in, she isn’t busy.”

The guard continued forward, his hand still pulling the boy along, and slowly opened the pair of doors.

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