Another piece written around a word. This is only a first draft, please leave comments and critiques etc.

The floorboard creaked, I feared that it might give me away but as I waited I couldn’t hear a sound. The house was still silent.

I don’t really know why I chose that place; I don’t really even know why I was there. I was just walking around with nothing to do. I think the house chose me, not the other way around. There were some nice things in the downstairs, I couldn't help noticing the mints on the kitchen table, and keys to some kind of Masda. But I’m not sure I really wanted to steal anything, I just wanted to look around to see what was there. I didn’t think anyone was going to wake up. I was just going to be there and then gone like a shadow or the wind.

It was the little things that made me was curious about who lived in the house; I wanted to know who they were. I wanted to know which one of them liked The Beatles so much, or who owned the too big TV. There is only so much you can learn from the way a person lives. There were only a few rooms upstairs, the bathroom door was open but all the other doors were closed. I took a quick look in the bathroom, someone in that house washed with Foamburst. I walked down the hallway as quietly as I could; I didn’t want to wake anyone.

One of the doors was slightly ajar, I hadn’t noticed it before but when I looked closer I could see that it wasn’t properly closed. My curiosity got the better of me. Very slowly I pushed the door open and poked my head through. The crystal moonlight was glowing through a small gap in the curtains, illuminating the face of a girl I almost thought I recognised. She was the classic kind of beauty: very simple looks, and perfect smooth features. I must have spent close to half an hour just standing there watching her sleep.

Then she woke up. For one short second her deep blue eyes met with mine. She was the most incredible woman I had ever seen, but the moment didn’t last. The next thing I knew she had her mouth as wide as it would go and a single, harrowing scream passed her lips. I guess I panicked. My first thought was that I had to stop her from screaming; I was sure that someone would wake up if she carried on that way. The next thing I knew I had clapped my hand over her mouth and begged her to stop screaming, telling her that I wouldnt hurt her. My begging payed off, she did stop, but not before I heard footsteps coming down the hallway.

Suddenly I was begging again, only this time I was pleading with her, asking her not to say a word about my presence. I wasn't confident, but just as I was losing hope she nodded then slowly pointed to the wardrobe, mouthed for me to hide. I barely had time to thank her before her bedroom door started to open. I was trying too hard not to shake to hear much of the conversation; I remember a deep husky voice asking her what had happened. I heard her voice flowing over me like silk, telling the man that it was ok; that she had just freaked out because of a dream. I heard the door close and footsteps down the hall, then another closing door.

I didn’t expect her to come to the wardrobe herself, to open the door in her sleepy sheep pyjamas to let me out. But she did. We didn’t talk at all, not a conversation anyway. I simply said thank you and left, avoiding the creaky floorboard and shutting the front door. I only ever walked past that house once again; she was standing in the window looking out at the world. I do not think she saw me, but I saw her. I will always remember. I don’t know why I chose that place, but I’m glad I did.

The End

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