Jasmin was desperate for money. She was out of luck and on the streets so, she resorted to the last thing she knew. She was in a stranger's house, the desk was in front of her; the drawer she had heard contained some priceless artifact, one of the Robinson's family heirlooms. She has babysat for them several times in the past, but they were stuck up and snobby, at least they seemed that way to her. So as her nimble fingers aligned below the drawer's handle she felt no regret. She pulled softly and heard an alarm go off all around her. Jasmin ran out the window just as Mr. Robinson broke through the door and fired a shot which completely missed her. Another shot was fired but this time she could feel the wind past her ear. She jumped off the low balcony, scrambled to her feet, then took off running. Jasmin knew the police were going to be after her but she didn't know where to hide.
As she ran through the suburbs she saw what she had been looking for. A small run down house that nobody has lived in for years. Jasmin kicked her way through the basement window cleanly, but cut herself on the glass when she slid though. The room was dark and damp; she could smell a potent odor filling the air, but she couldn't see much. Jasmin closed her eyes, and when she opened them the room made itself more visible to her. Old yellow wall paper covered the walls. It was torn in places and peeling in others. She could see dark stains all over the walls and floors, and then her eyes focused on something that frightened her, scratch marks. She walked to the scratch marks and brushed her fingers along them, "Who made these?" she asked herself. "What was this room used for?" She heard a ruffling noise from the other side of the wall, then a slight knock. "Is anyone there?... Hello?...Mommy?...Where's mommy, where did he take mommy?" Jasmin was frantic, while asking these questions, a small voice replied, "I don't know. I don't know where your mommy is. I’ll get you out of there. "Without thinking, she opened the door and ran across the brown stained floor to the next door. It was locked. Jasmin smiled to herself. She knew how to pick locks. "I’ll get you out of there. "She said more to herself than the the people inside. She took a pin out of her pocket, and started working on the lock when she heard footsteps. The footsteps were coming from down the hall and were getting closer. Jasmin needed to hurry. She lined up all the pins, turned the door, and pushed it inwards as the footsteps stopped behind her. She crawled in the room and turned over to see an old man.
"Hello there. What are you doing in this old house?" The old man said and continued, "It hasn't been livable for years." The man had a scruffy beard, a beanie hat, and overalls. The toolbox next to him said that he was a repairman, and Jasmin realized he was working on the house. "But the people. There are people in here, aren't there?" Jasmin asked as she looked around the empty room. "Oh no," said the man. "There haven't been people here for years. This house used to belong to some old killer, actually. I think he kept the people in one of these rooms, couldn't tell you which one though." "It was this one." Jasmin said as she walked out of the room and hugged the man, happy to see a kind face.
