WEN: 096A33
Exhibitor Name: Daniella Smith
Division: Creative Writing--
Class: 04 Short Stories (
I checked my watch once more, and it read 0357. I quickly counted my materials, made sure I had everything and then packed everything into a tactical military backpack. When I finished, I slung the bag over my shoulder and stood, looking ahead in the direction of Wyatt’s street. I had a carefully laid out plan, yet reckless. 12 Aug 1994 - 0400 hours As soon as the time hit 0400, I began walking toward Wyatt’s house. Gravel crunched softly under my boots as I moved quickly. I knew I had plenty of time until Wyatt woke up; Marie had told me today that the lights in his home blinked on at seven in the morning. She also informed me that he went to bed anytime between eleven in the afternoon or midnight, so that meant I still had to be quiet in case he wasn’t in a deep sleep yet. Once I reached the first house in Wyatt’s neighborhood (a lovely place numbered 148, infested with rats), I slipped on my face mask and snuck around to the back of 148, so I was out of the road and safely hidden from sight. I then crouched below the windows of 148 and walked in this crouched manner until I finally reached Wyatt’s backyard. Knees aching, I paused right below a window and reached for the putty knife and hammer I had packed earlier. I knew for a fact this window had a weak latch because earlier today, Wyatt had me pull out all the weeds that lined the perimeter of his property. Seizing the opportunity Wyatt unknowingly presented to me, I furtively observed all of the windows. I checked the windows' sizes to see if I could fit my body through any of them with no struggle. I finally did find one sash window that overlooked the backyard. Now, as I carefully inserted the putty knife between the window frame and the sash, I raised the hammer and hit the knife gently. I let out a small relieved gasp when the sash window slid open, and I held my breath as I looked inside. The kitchen was dark, as was the hallway leading up to it, and it was silent. This was a good sign since I’d feared that a dog’s frantic barking would emerge from Wyatt’s house. I wasn’t sure Wyatt had a dog or not - hence the dog treats in my backpack. I easily hoisted myself up on the windowsill, gingerly resting my feet on the counter and hauling my bag alongside them. After I shut the window as silently as possible, I took my boots off and set them off to the side. This was so that I could hop down the counter without making much noise, which I managed to execute successfully.
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