Spying Is a Dangerous Game

http://www.creative-writing-now.com/
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DAY 13


WRITING PROMPT: Write a poem about hiding places.  Or write a story about a character who has to hide someone in his/her house.  It’s important that no one else living in the house discovers that this person is there (you can decide why).



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Spying Is a Dangerous Game



“Shh… You have to be very quiet. Dad is a light sleeper. He seems to hear everything. I think sometimes he hears my thoughts!”

I have never felt such mixed emotions. I know this is wrong. But deep inside, I also know that this is so right. There is no way I can just let James turn himself into the police. Not yet. There is too much more for the police to discover than just the one boy that was seen at the crime.

“Where is your camera? You still have it with you, don’t you?”

“Of course. That is why I went there in the first place.”

“What were you thinking? Going there by yourself?”

“Elizabeth, come in here?” That was Dad shouting. He was in his study watching the news. “Elizabeth!”

“Coming down! Just give me a sec.” I reply to Dad. “Jeeess… I thought dad had already tuned in.  Gotta go. Stay put.” I reply to James. And then I calmly dash downstairs.

“Have you seen the news?”

“No. I’ve been upstarts working on my Calculus problems.” That was sort of true. My Calculus book was open on my desk.

“Well, watch this. They’re getting ready to show the film footage from those surveillance cameras downtown. You know that there was another fire last night. They say a group of local hooligans were caught on film. This time there will be some evidence.”

I gulp. “Dad never calls me into his study unless there is truly ‘a message’. No way James would have been stupid enough to get caught on film. That’s what he was there to do.”

Three guys from our school had been up to this for the last three months and no one had been able to lay a finger on them. James heard about their latest plot as he was dressing in the locker room.

“James said that he knew that he go get the goods on these guys.” I chuckle. “Get the goods. Sometimes talking to James was like talk the conversations in an old spy film.”

“Beth?”

“Uh-oh. Dad never says ‘Beth’ unless there is a hammer soon to fall.”

“Haven’t I seen that boy in that film around here?”



Written for Creative Writing Now: Be a Writer Now class.


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