She came across a modern house that seemed familiar. Without thinking about the consequences Kate stepped into the house. A voice echoed through the hall. Kate ran into the first room she saw. There were pictures up on the wall. It hit her; she knew where she was after seeing an addressed envelope. “Kate Miller, 62 Manor Close”. She was in her house. But whose voice had she heard?
The telephone cried out like a baby. Her natural instinct was forgotten about, the phone was ignored. There was a silence. The voice re-appeared. Kate tip-toed to open the large oak door slightly. There was definitely someone in her house. Only a few words could be made out. “Sorry……she’s gone…..yes I’m organising it”. Who was this person? Kate questioned herself. Whom was he speaking about?
She crept quietly across the wooden floor boards, making sure no noise was made. The weak floor creaked. Suddenly there was a noise, as if metal was hitting the ground. It was footsteps. Scurrying into the wardrobe, Kate avoided being seen. It was like being in a shoe box. There was a small gap where the doors met. Unexpectedly the door slammed against the wall. Kate’s breathing became heavier; almost panting. It was like a whirlwind being created. “Hah, no mate, she’s not come back” the man joked. Kate became more curious.
The footsteps could be heard again; the got quieter. Kate realised the mysterious man was going up the stairs. She shoved the wardrobe doors open catching her breath. Then she peered out of the room to check if the coast was clear. It was. Quickly Kate ran to the lounge, she was amazed to see it almost empty. Her sofa, TV, pictures, they were all gone. The man was definitely a burglar she thought. She knew he mustn’t see her.
Turning around she saw the antique mirror her late grandma had given her was still on the wall. Kate came close to tears just thinking about her. She moved closer towards it. She looked into the mirror. A shadow appeared. Kate rushed to the corner of the room and hid behind the brown empty cardboard boxes. If the shadow wasn’t there maybe Kate would have wondered why she didn’t see her reflection, but that was the last thing on her mind at that moment. She knew what she had to do now. There should be a phone on the kitchen wall. If she could get there without being seen she could call the police and immediately she would feel safe.
The man was longer on the phone. He stomped around the house as if it were his own. Kate waited patiently. She watched the figure take her mirror of the wall. His face could not be seen from where she was. He was wearing a black pin striped suit. Although Kate imagined him to be wearing a stripy top with a balaclava like the stereotype, she guessed the outfit was a disguise. He picked up a bag and the mirror and walked away. The man dropped a small card without realising. Kate thought there was light at the end of this dark tunnel. In a few minutes she could see the police handcuffing ‘him’ away and she’d be safe. She’d have his name from the card. Reality soon hit her hard. She had to get help.
Kate waited patiently. She didn’t want to go too soon as he may return. After several long minutes in silence she made her move.
Kate pushed the boxes away and went for the card. It read “Bill Hallby, Hallbys funeral directors”. She was confused. Was the mysterious man a funeral director or did he just happen to have a card? She needed the phone. She sprinted to the kitchen, past the locked front door, dropping the card. Looking around everything was still there……except the phone. The man must know she was there. Making sure she couldn’t escape or get help. The newspaper on the kitchen unit caught her eye. There was a huge headline about an accident. A bus had hit a 20 something year old girl. All that was found with her was an mp3 player, bag and a buss pas. Kate skimmed the page for a name. She found it. It read Kate Miller.
