Prisoners of War - Chapter 22

Essay by spoonman419 August 2004

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Tim sat in Melissa's garage on a stool, and took out his cell phone speed dialing a number. "Yea its me...yea its on." He hung up and began to whistle to himself standing up, closing the garage door and walking to the back, while putting on a pair of gloves.

He lifted up a small welcome mat that stood in front of the door, and lifting it up smiled snatching up a key. The door led into a hallway, with stairs leading both up and down. He didn't need anything from the basement so he headed up into the living room looking around, and turned right to the kitchen.

He looked around the cupboards a bit and smiled finding what he wanted. He took out a little zip lock bag and as he then walked through the house he took out a small key from his pocket, wiped it off on his shirt and put it in the bag.

He looked at the pictures with an emotionless face as he climbed the stairs, and looked in what must have been Anthony's room, then walking down the hall to Melissa's. Seeing the bigger bed and cleaner room he was sure that it was hers, and went in looking around again.

Looking at the ceiling he smiled and grabbed a chair that sat by a desk moving it over to the corner of the room. He took out a small pocketknife and jabbed at the very corner of the ceiling, poking a small hole through it, then moved over, jabbing again and making another hole.

He repeated this until there was a small slit in the ceiling barley noticeable. He folded up the key and pushed it up, making sure it was unnoticeable, then got off the chair and looked around the...