Chapter 2
Still unsure of what to do, I made a split-second decision and climbed through the window after Will. Once inside, I saw him tearing open drawers and combing through their contents.
I took a second to review the inside of the house. A tan couch sat on the left of the living room, a blanket neatly folded on the back and pillows gently placed next to each arm. There were environment paintings on the walls; some of quaint ruby-red barns, and others of antique houses, beautiful rainbows overhead. The shag carpeting was outdated, but obviously treated immaculately, no stains or fading visible. Will was searching through what looked like a 19th century wooden chest. Ahead, I could see the entrance to the kitchen, and to the right, a flight of stairs.
"Finally!" Will yelled. "I thought you were going to ditch me! I'll look around down here, you go upstairs."
I snapped to attention and ran for the stairs. I took them three at a time, and reached the landing in two seconds flat.
The upstairs was much like the living room, systematic and uncluttered with paintings covering the walls. I had a choice of either right or left, so I prayed and went left. This took me to what looked like the master bedroom. Alarm still blaring, I ran and checked the in-tables on each side of the bed. Nothing besides a couple flashlights and a few dollars. I grabbed the money and ran for the cabinet at the foot of the bed. The drawers were piled to capacity with old clothes. Not good. Next I checked the closet, under the bed, and a chest next to the door into the room, but only unearthed dust, more old clothes, and a few more dollars.
Swearing under my breath, I headed out the door, continued straight past the staircase, and discovered two more rooms. The first one was filled with superannuated furniture, so I advanced into the second room, very aware of the time constraints. The second room appeared to be a child's from many years ago. Approaching with depressed expectations, the only notable thing I recovered was a stash of playboys under the bed. I left them where they were.
This was not worth it, I thought to myself. We're out of time and have to leave before the police show up. Hopefully Will found something good. If he didn't, then-
But that thought was cut off by another alarm. This one was different, blaring and then dropping volume in a pattern.
I struggled to hear it over the sound of the first alarm, but panic arrived as I discerned what it was. It's not an alarm, it's a siren. The police were here!
I quickly grabbed the money I scavenged and ran down the stairs to find Will. He was pacing around the room, evidently also aware of the police.
"What do we do!?" said Will frantically.
"Run!" I said, as I turned to sprint out the front door.
With Will at my heels, we ran for the door. But as we began to open it, we heard a deep, serious voice behind us.
"Stop right there!" said the officer, who had obviously gone through the back door. "You will just make the sentencing worse if you run!"
"Will, stop." I said "Let's just give ourselves up. This was a bad idea from the beginning"
"That's smart, son" said the officer.
"Are you sure?" Will whispered into my ear.
"Yeah," I whispered back. "We don't have any chance of getting away. I'm sure there is another officer out front"
"Put your hands behind your back." said the officer, walking up to cuff us.
When he said that, the reality of the situation hit me. I was about to be arrested. What would mom think of this? She gives her life for me every day, and I repay her by getting arrested. I should be ashamed of myself.
"You have the right to remain silent," said the officer, putting handcuffs on Will. "Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law"
As the officer turned to cuff me, someone shouted from outside.
"Price!" the voice yelled in a frantic voice. "What is happening!? Forget the kids and get out here!"
"What is it now, Rick? Can't it wait?" said the officer whose name is evidently Price.
In a very scared voice, an almost inaudible response could be heard.
"No.. it can't"
End of Chapter Two
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Author's Note
I wrote this a few years ago, around 7th or 8th grade. Even though I briefly read through it, I apologize in advance if there are any grammar or punctuation errors. If I get enough readers and support, I would gladly continue the series.
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I'm curious of the next chapter 
