Facing the criminals
It was late in the evening and I was upstairs in my bed, reading a novel before going to sleep. My parents had gone out and wouldn’t be back home until late.
I was reaching the end of the last chapter when I heard a strange noise downstairs in the living room. At first, I thought I was just imagining things, but then I heard the noise again, a bit louder, this time. I put down my book and listened carefully. Someone was downstairs: it was probably a thief, or even worse, a murderer!
I wasn’t going to be a coward! I tiptoed downstairs, after I had grabbed a broomstick from the cupboard. I could hear someone whispering in the kitchen. Slowly and carefully, I opened the kitchen door, the broomstick in my hand shouted “I’ve got you!”
“Good evening, Mark!”- my mum said- “Have you been reading crime novels again?”