Treasure No Police Could Find
The conductor tossed me a letter. I looked at it. Sitting in a train to New York, I quickly ate breakfast, and with butter fingers, hastily opened the letter. It said,
“Jack, The police are looking for you. Run. Take the cash.”
“I don’t believe it!” I exclaimed.
I crumpled the letter into my pocket. Quickly standing up, I drifted out the carriage door, my legs shaking anxiously. The conductor almost bumped into me, but without a word, I ran to my compartment, perplexed. How did they find me? Did I leave any clues? Questions began fumbling in my mind, and I could barely walk. Sweat began streaming down my face. I pushed past the others, wearily covering my face from exposure. My heart began to beat quicker. I finally reached, yanking open the door. I walked in and rapidly began packing my things to leave. The train had almost reached, it’s just a matter of time. I looked around. Where has it gone? My face began turning red. Find it. Find it. I kept looking around: under the seats; near the open window; but suddenly I found it. I grabbed the suitcase and took all my stuff, to get out as soon as it reached. Relief filled my heart. I looked around cautiously; making sure I didn’t leave anything behind. Just as I was about to leave, I could hear footsteps outside. They were deep footsteps, but something didn’t feel right. The person came into my compartment and grabbed his gun. How do I escape from them? My mind suddenly shifted. In fright, I took the suitcase, and heaved it outside the window. Without a second thought, I ran for my life. But they were no match for me. Injecting me with funny medicines, I couldn’t remember a thing.
© Jessica Ann George