By Jacey T
Hello, I am Mr. Kim, I am the father of two twins, Cea and Mike, and I live in a house that looks the same as the others on the street. Our house was special because my great-great-grandfather, who lived during the Gold Rush, hid one gold nugget and it’s in this house, not in a museum. Anyway, let’s get to the story. It all started when one night, I woke up thinking something was wrong. Suddenly, I heard something that sounded like footsteps-or was it? Then, I went down to investigate.
“Who is it?’’ I asked in a nervous tone thinking the person would reveal themselves. For a second, I saw a person with a hood. Before my eyes, the person darted out of the door and he was gone …
The next morning, I checked to see if anything was stolen. Everything was a mess. Drawers were opened and papers were scattered everywhere. What was the person looking for and, most importantly, how did they get in? I examined the door. The lock on the door appeared picked. The thing was, nobody I have met in town has the skill to pick a lock, or did I someone? I sat at the dining table and thought. I just knew I knew the person, but I couldn’t think of their name. I tried to list all the names of the people I know, but my mind got mixed up. I went back to sitting at the dining table, lost in thought.
Soon enough, Cea and Mike came down for breakfast.
“What’s going on?” asked Mike curiously. I told them the story.
“What about the gold nugget?” suggested Cea. We checked for it, and it wasn’t in the locked velvet colored box where it was kept. The reason I didn’t donate it to a museum, and the same reason only my family knew about it, “was because it was valuable.” Anybody would want to steal it, sell it, and get rich from it. In no time, Cea, Mike, and I figured out it was my brother, Shirrine. He was a person who made locks. And only he would know about it.
We quickly drove to his house and parked right in front of his house. We started to walk up the front steps until I heard Shirrine talking with someone inside. We stopped. I looked around to see if anybody had spotted us. But nobody was looking and the curtains on the windows were closed. We tiptoed to the windows and I saw him talking to a young man through the gaps of the closed curtains. For proof, I recorded the conversation. We were 100 percent sure Shirrine was the thief when he said, “We can sell this gold nugget, get the money, and solve your problem!”
We immediately knocked on the door and Shirrine opened it. He invited us in and then Shirrine asked us why we were here.
“Shirrine, I understand that you want to sell the gold nugget and help people. Sadly, this is not the way we help people, I hope you understand. Plus, you stole from your family,” I told him. For proof, we played the recording of the conversation. He said he owed us an explanation.
“I thought if I could steal the gold nugget, sell it, give this young man the money, he could go to college. His family wants him to go to college, but his family doesn’t have the money. I’ve learned my lesson,” explained Shirrine sadly. He learned his lesson to not steal to help others and he never did it again.