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It felt luxurious and I reveled in the rare opportunity to sleep in with no obligation, school, or extracurricular activity to take my time. Rolling over, my legs rubbed against each other smoothly as they tangled in those worn sheets. I yawned and listened carefully. No sounds permeated through my door, the house was silent. I almost couldn't believe was home alone. Perched on the side of the bed, I shot a quick glance out the window and confirmed that my Mom’s car was gone; I could see the empty space where she normally parked beside my own car. I stood on my toes and stretched sleep stiffened limbs, fingertips reaching. In a busy household, the place was never vacant. The normal background noise was usually slammed doors, muffled conversations, and footsteps, not the chirp of a bird, and the brush of a tree along the roof. Towel in hand, I headed to the bathroom to prepare for my day. The freedom of an empty house was intoxicating as I walked from my room to the bathroom wearing. "We drove straight there, shit Ballard's house was in the richest part of town, it was huge, it looked like an old mansion from down in the old South big columns in front, huge balcony's maybe three or four stories high. Huge driveway with green grass everywhere I could see. I felt a little funny driving up in out little car compared to all the expensive rich cars parked in front. When we got to the door, a lovely woman opened the door just as Bill went to touch the doorbell; it was 7:50 when the door swung open. "Hello" the woman said, "I bet you are Pamela, and you must be her husband, my name is Betty Ballard, what is your name?" Bill took her hand and as he shook it said "please to meet you Mrs. Ballard, my name is Bill, Bill Jackson" Betty said "well I won't have any trouble remembering your name, Mr. Ballard's name is also Bill. I just need to make sure I don't call you Honey." We all laughed as we walked in. Betty said "You look lovely my dear, the boys are out on the patio.
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