(If you are reading this part first, do your self a favor and read the others before this one. Or else your not going to understand any of this)
Great, now I not going to live long enough to be slammed onto America's Most Wanted. I took a few steps back, with each step the growling becoming more intense. Quiver the nervous Chihuahua barked out a few times. I don't need to be a dog whisperer to know what that meant. I backed myself up to the kitchen counter and Killer the modern day Cujo stopped growling. I looked around very slowly to see what stopped it. I looked at where my left hand was at. It was hovering over the knob of a drawer that was next to the fridge. I looked at the dog again he was sitting with his head tilted sideways, as if to ask a question. I slowly pulled the drawer opened and prayed that what I hoped was in there, was in there. I looked into it. Yes! Doggy treats. I looked at the dog again He was wagging his tail this time. Even Nervous here was excited, his tail a vibrating blur compared to the rest of his body. I had to smile. I decided to sound a little friendly to the guard dogs. I picked up some little doggie treats and the tails started fanning a little harder. "Treat?" I asked. He gets up from his sitting position. I held the little milk bone up in the air. "Up." I ordered. He got up on his hind legs, towering over me. I gave him the treat. He got back down to chew the bone happily. The Chihuahua barked as if to demand a treat. I gave him a bone too, and it was funny to watch that little thing drag his milk bone to the living room.
O.K. That should keep them busy for a few minutes. I looked in the pantry they had. I picked up a few granola bars and stuffed them into the paper bags I snagged earlier. I grabbed the Bread, and (after a little hunting) the peanut butter and jelly. To my surprise, they had a box of plastic silverware, not much in it, a total of two forks, five spoons, and a lot of knives. I took it anyway. I walked into the living room, wondering if I should go use the bathroom before I leave, when the door swung wide open. Standing there was a very cute white girl. She must be at least 15 or 16. She had a yellow T-shirt with different colored flowers on it, black jeans, a black short-sleeve jacket, and black and white tennis shoes. Her skin was flawless, her eyes blue as the sky, her wavy, black hair perfected her features. She had her backpack dangling in her hand. Oh, that's right, today must be Friday, still a school day.
I thought she would scream, I thought she would run. I thought she would yell to the police and warn them of a five foot, ten, long haired Blondie, robbing houses of groceries. But instead she tossed her bag aside and closed the door behind her. She locked it, turned around to me and suddenly I really did need to go to the bathroom. She said, "I've been having a bad day as it is, but now I can take my anger out on somebody." She slowly walked toward me. "Too bad," she said playfully, "your really cute for a thief." She lunged at me with a fist up in the air. I dodged it. She threw one fist after another, and I had to dodge and block every one of them. Normally I would fight, I wouldn't hurt her, just immobilize her. The dogs just stared, they certainly weren't taking sides. I always had the knife I stole from that one guy. But I refused to use it. I wanted this to end quickly. I tried talking while dodging blows, "Please-Ahhh-I don't want to hurt you." "That makes my part in this easier." she said, as if it was plain as day. I tried to keep talking, to show her I wasn't a bad guy. "Uh. Can't I just leave an I.O.U.?" I said as we made our way to kitchen. I ran past the counter and she followed, we ran around a little bit until both of us suddenly stopped. The counter was a big rectangle island in the middle of the kitchen, and we were on the far ends of it; my back to the living room. She reached behind her, her eyes still on me. She felt around and threw the knives she grabbed, I ducked just in the nick of time. I ran away, into the living room and turned to face her again, backing up very slowly. "If you want the food back that badly, you can have it. I'll just get it from some dumpster." I never realized that I still had the bag in a death grip. I dropped the bag, and she was still walking toward me with a face that said, No matter what you do, you will die, today. I bolted for the door, I thought I was fast, but apparently she was faster. As soon as I got to the door, she grabs my jacket and throws me away, so that the only thing between me and the door was her. Right, only. She comes at me again fists cocked, she threw one and I caught it. She was surprised, but got over it and threw her other fist. I caught that one too. I put her wrists in my left hand and pinned her to a wall. I cocked my fist back, but froze. What was I doing? Am I that much like my father? For the first time, I saw fear in the girl's sky blue eyes. I dropped both of my hands, freeing the girl. She had a questioning look on her face, which instantly turned to a look of 'My Chance!' With that she punched me in the face, and I let her. Before I passed out I could hear her beautiful voice mocking me, "So much of a thief you turned out to be." Should I take that as a compliment or as an insult?
I woke up, but again I was scared to open up my eyes. I hoped with all my heart this all a dream, that I would wake up in my old bed in my room. To two crappy parents. I would go on my 4-o'-clock in the morning flying run (the sun was nowhere near up by then). I opened my eyes to see the girl hang up her phone. I realized that my hands were tied behind my back by layers and layers of duct-tape. She kneeled beside me and said, "The police aren't coming unless I tip my dad off in a minute. If I don't check up with him in 30 minutes he'll call them anyway, so that leaves plenty of time to talk about you. First question: Why didn't you use this?" She held the Knife I refused to use in our fight. She sat down and crossed her legs, as if she was ready to hear any story I could throw. I thought about this, lying about this could make matters worse. Although they out come of me telling the truth could either be disastrous, or maybe beneficial. I sighed and said, "Before I say anything, you need to reach down my shirt and feel my back." I didn't realized how strange that sounded until I said it. She said "Oh you would like me to do that would you?" "No-I mean, I need you to trust me for a sec. O.K.?" "Trust you? Why should I?" She said, almost screaming now. "Cause I had that in my pocket, and I refused to use it against you." I said, hinting the knife in her hand. She sighed and leaned over to feel my back. "Uh, you might want to feel the other side first." She shot me a funny look and started to reach behind my left shoulder with her right hand. I can feel her hand on my wing. I could hear the questioning in her voice, "What the....." She felt the other side now. She opened up the collar of my shirt, the neck of it almost choking me, to get a better look. Then she sat back, and looked at me with a sad/questioning face. "What happened to you?" I sighed, "You might want to call your dad and tell him your decision now, because it's a long story." "Oh,.....of course." She got up, called her dad, had a short argument, and hung up. She turned to me and said almost anxiously, "So what happened?" I told her my story, she laughed when I told her about the dogs. She had a beautiful laugh. When the story caught up to here, she was serious again. "Well, I guess we do what we do to survive. I'm going to call my dad again to convince him to let you stay with us." "Wait, What?" I said. "It's October. You can't be wandering around in the cold all day and night. Crazy." Before she left to the other room I had to remind her of something, "Uh, excuse me. Uh, what's your name?" She turned and said, "Oh," she walked over and extended her hand to shake, "My name is Nicole, but everyone calls me Nicky." I looked at her hand and then back at her. She realized that I was still duct taped and said, "Oh, sorry. Let me get you out of there."
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