This seems like a terrible idea.

I can’t shake the feeling that someone is watching as the gate creaks shut behind me. Get in, get the vase, get out. That’s the plan. All I can do is hope nothing goes wrong.
If it works, it’ll be worth it. I’m getting 50% of the profits, and that’s going to be a lot of money. The vase is some fancy antique that belongs to some stuck up couple that Greg doesn’t like. “We’ll sell it,” he told me. Apparently, we would make like ten thousand dollars, and that’s practically a fortune for my family.

“They won’t even miss it.” That’s what he had said. He said that they had a house in the rich part of town and that “those people have more money than they know what to do with.” He said they hadn’t even taken it out of the safe once since they had gotten it. He said he had been waiting tables at the fancy restaurant that had fired him (Here, he paused his story to complain. “It wasn’t even fair. I mean, I showed up on time nearly half the time.”), and the couple had bragged about having the vase. He said they were waiting for it to “appreciate,” whatever that was supposed to mean.

I hadn’t been friends with him for long before he proposed this, but I was sick of being the new guy in his group of friends. I was tired of them picking on me. I was tired of them saying I was pathetic every time I refused to be the one to stick the Hot Pockets under my jacket before we left the convenience store (Greg referred to this type of stealing as “child’s play.” My mom called it “absolutely not okay, young man,” that one time I actually agreed to do it, and she caught me). I knew if I could pull this off, they would treat me well. Or at least they would treat me a bit better.

I creep down towards the front door, but I turn off the path before I get there. I jimmy open the lock on the window because Greg has said the windows would be easier to open than the doors. I pull myself up into the now open window and crash clumsily onto the sofa below. I am really not suited for this type of thing.

“How do you know I won’t get caught?” I had asked Greg.
“They’re on vacation,” he replied.
“You never said that before.” I said. “How did you hear about it?”
“Um…” he hesitated. I wondered why he wasn’t answering, but I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to blow my chance to do this.
“They said that at dinner too,” Eric filled in.
“Yeah, that’s right,” he said. “Eric’s right. I just forgot for a sec.”
I creep around the living room looking for a safe, but I don’t even know where to begin. I’ve never been in a house with a safe before. I don’t know where they would keep it. I figure I’ll just look everywhere.
If this works, I think I’ll buy my parents a nice TV. The one we have now is this cruddy old thing with antennas on the top and sometimes my sister bumps into it and the antennas move and all we can see is static. And maybe I’ll get my dad a nice computer so he can do work at home without having to deal with his cruddy old laptop that crashes nearly three times every day. We don’t have much nice stuff, and I know they wouldn’t approve of what I’m doing, so I may as well do something good for them to make up for it.

Finding nothing in the living room, I head down the hallway, looking for the stairs. It’s dark, and I walk into a wall that I had thought was the entrance to the hallway. I wish I had my phone so I could use the light, but Greg had taken my backpack before I left. He said that if the police found me, it would be better if I didn’t have my ID or my phone because if they didn’t know who I was, at least my parents wouldn’t have to find out. He would cover for me, make up some story about how I was wrongly convicted or something. My parents would believe him because they wouldn’t want to believe that I could do this. Greg took my money too. He didn’t trust the police, and he thought they would take my money if I got arrested because they only respect the rich guys (I interrupted. “That’s backwards. Don’t they get more if they take from the rich ones?” “That’s just how the world works,” he said), and he said it would be better if he had my money than if they did.

I find the stairs and stumble up them, cursing myself for not thinking to bring a flashlight. Every noise I hear outside makes me nervous. I need to get the vase and get out. I can’t get caught. I’ve thought of a million things to do with the money once I get out, but honestly, I know there’s only one thing I really need to do. May Belle’s had her eye on the My Little Pony toy that all the other kindergarten girls have, but we couldn’t really afford to get it for her. It’s this big electronic thing that I don’t even understand, but she seems to think it’s really cool, so I want her to have it. The other girls in her class tease her because she doesn’t have one, and sometimes she comes home crying, and I have to make her feel better. Kindergarten girls can be surprisingly cruel for such small people. I swear I’m going to fix this though. I don’t even care what Greg will think of me when the first thing I buy is some creepy electronic pink pony. I’m doing this for her.

I’m really determined now. The floorboards creak in the hallway, so I walk gingerly down the hall. The door at the end of the hall is closed, and when I try to turn the handle, I realized it’s locked. This must be it. I start to work on opening the lock.

The wail of sirens echoes down the street and I freeze. I hear voices and a door opens and someone shouts “come out and put your hands where I can see them.” I’m not really aware of what’s happening. It’s just a blur of sirens and shouting and handcuffs.
By the time I’ve really figured out what’s going on, they’ve put me in a cell. I hear voices muttering.
“It was an anonymous tip,” one says. “Some kid called and said there was going to be a robbery. He gave us the address, and that’s where we found this guy.” He gestures dismissively towards me. Something clicks in my head.
There was never any vase. Or at least my “friends” hadn’t meant for me to find it.