It was a tiring Monday and I was longing to get home as soon as possible. Finally, I reached my house door. I did not bother to ring the doorbell as I knew that my mother was not at home. She had gone to buy groceries as like every other Monday. I searched my bag for the bunch of keys but to my dismay, I could not find it. I was thinking of taking everything out in my bag to search for the keys again when I heard a banging sound coming from the house.
I froze as my blood turned to ice, and a chill went down my spine. I listened hard for the noise again, but this time, I did not hear anything. I thought that maybe it was my imagination. After all, I had had a long and tiring at school. Just then, I heard a crash coming from inside the house. My heart pounded against my chest. I took hold of the door to find that it was not locked.
Then I heard a shrill screeching sound emanating from the house. I recognised that sound. It was the sound of the dressing table being dragged against the floor. Behind this table was a
compartment where my mother kept all her valuables.
I refused to accept the truth that my house was being ransacked. Now that I knew that some uninvited intruder was in my house, I felt that I was so unlucky. I already had a tiring day, and now such a thing had to happen to me. It was then I realised that the person in the house could have stolen my keys and broken into my house. I always kept my keys in my pencil case in my bag, and no one but myself knew about this habit of mine. So it meant that the person in the house knew me very well, and had been watching my every move.
Just then, the door of my house flung open and out rushed a figure in a mask, holding a large and bulging bag. He crashed into me and I called out for help.
"Thief! Thief! Don't let him get away!" I yelled at the top of my voice. The figure seemed shocked and he stood rooted to the ground. Then he turned and ran towards the stairs. He had barely to reach the stairs when a broomstick hit his head and he tumbled down the flight of stairs. Lady luck was on my side. A cleaner had heard my cries and came to stop the burglar in time. The cleaner pinned him to the ground as I called the police.
They arrived quickly and they pulled the mask from the burglar's head. At the first sight, I did not recognise him. However, as I stared closer, I found out that I knew no one better than him. He was my father! I remembered many years ago, he had gambled away all his money and the police had arrested him. It seemed all so long ago, but he was back. I could not believe what had happened.
Tears sprung to my eyes as the policemen handcuffed him and took him away.
"I'm sorry," my father said remorsefully and hung his head low." I needed some money."
That explained everything. He had been spying on me all the time, and waited for the right moment to steal my keys and rob my house. No wonder he knew where my mother's possessions were kept. I could not believe I could feel so sorry for him. I only knew him for a few years, and for all that he had done or had not done, I would have hated him. There was no hatred as I watched the police officers frogmarched him into the patrol car. After all, he was still my father and I should feel sorry for him and I truly did.
Just then, I saw my mother coming towards the house with a smile on her face. I could not bear to dampen her spirits by telling her what had happened. How was I going to break the news to her without breaking her heart?