Writing Wednesday #13 ~ Crime

When she moved into the house on Fulbright Street, she couldn't help but fall in love with her little corner of heaven (or Darlington, however you pronounce it). The neighbours actually smiled when she was hauling box after box into her house, with a few approaching her to express their welcome.
Next door, James debated going out and helping his new neighbour with her furniture and things. A small part of him held him back, she was living in his ex-girlfriend's house, after all, and he dreaded the memories the house held, so he stayed put.
Boxes littered every surface, from the living room floor to the kitchen island, from the bathroom shelf to the bedroom cupboard. It had taken hours to simply organise the boxes into their rooms. Unpacking them was another story altogether, and could definitely wait until tomorrow. Clearing the rubbish she'd had to unpack in order to get to her pyjamas in one fell swoop from the bed, Kate promptly collapsed onto it, the excitement of a new house fading into exhaustion.

* * *

James wasn't expecting to be awake at 3 o'clock in the morning, nor did he expect to see somebody sneaking into his new neighbour's house. At first, he thought it was just a boyfriend, but the waiting van down the street and noticeably dark clothing said otherwise.

Debating what to do, James looked to the keychain of mementos his ex had left him to dwell upon, from which hung a spare key to her house. He could always let himself in to check on her, make sure she was alright and then explain himself later. Conscience weighing upon him, he snatched the keychain from where it lay, resolved to care for his neighbour, whether he'd said hello to her yet or not.

The key worked; he wouldn't put it past his ex to change the locks when she left. All was quiet in the house, if he knew better, he'd say the intruder had left. This, however was proven wrong, when a crash came from the room opposite him.

Kate emerged from her room at the sound, dozy but ready to investigate, because god help her if a stray cat had waltzed in. Trooping downstairs, she certainly didn't expect to find her neighbour with a face that clearly gave away the fact that he'd been caught, his eyes wide and sufficiently 'caught in the headlights'.

Stood in shock for a few moments, James hadn't even had chance to move before Kate went for the phone, nimble fingers calling the police. He wanted to run, really he did, but he had to warn her, there was somebody in her house, she needed to know. Such a thought had barely crossed his mind before he was shoved forcibly into a cupboard and locked in.

"Wait, wait!" His fists pounded against the door. "It's Kate, isn't it? Kate, you have to listen to me, there's somebody in your house!"

"Yes, you!" was the reply from the other side of the door.

He tried to tell her, oh he tried everything to get her to listen, but by the time the police got there, he hadn't convinced her at all. He tried one last time as he was dragged from the house, trying to say that he wasn't the one they should be after, that there was somebody else in the house, that he'd been trying to help. His voice was drowned, however by the glass of the car window.

Kate returned into her home, not noticing the door of the spare bedroom that she'd definitely not left ajar earlier that night, nor did she notice the being hidden just in the shadows behind it.