MBT Fora Shoes Never Trust a Rat

English Class story... again. The catch with this one was that we had to begin and end with a sentence about rats.
~
Rats can be clever. I'll give you that. But they can also be horrid, repulsive creatures.
Here I sit in an unlit dungeon contemplating the events that led me here. My eyes roamed from one wall to another listening to the scrabbling of the creatures I now hated more than anything. And all because of him.
I remember that day better than any in my life, mostly because that day was my downfall. I have had hours,Montblanc Ballpoint Pens, days even, to wonder what would have happened if we had just chosen someone else.
We were in a lush mansion. Not ours, of course, as you cannot steal an item you already own. It was the Duke's house and we were uninvited. Our aim was to steal. To rob him of everything he owned,MBT Fora Shoes, and we would have succeeded, if it was not for him.
He was every girl's dream - smart, handsome and charming. Unfortunately, he cared only for himself, leading others into destruction.
There were four of us, all working together, before he came along. We were the perfect team and had reduced the richest people in our country to ruins in less than a year. They called us Ghost Thieves as we were never caught, but as our reputation grew, so did the danger.
We decided to add a fifth member to help on the look out and when he applied for the job he seemed perfect. That opinion was short lived.
We began noticing problems as we practiced our trade. He never seemed to pay attention as we crept up and down the halls. But we shrugged it off and protested that he was merely bored of pretending.
Our first crime with him on the team was in the house of a Count. He signaled danger much too late and we had to run to escape the guards. We began to grow wary but once again ignored it, writing it down as 'first heist jitters'.
The day we intended to rob the Duke's house was bright and cheery, not the type of day you think of when you hear the word 'burglary'. The sun shone and birds sang as we prowled through the castle.
He was sent to a - seemingly - deserted post to keep watch while we split up, stuffing valuble items into the large sacks we carried with us.
He should have whistled, as he was told to do at the sight of danger, but he did not and we were cornered quickly. The guards arrested us roughly, shoving us into a huge wooden cage on the back of a wagon to be transported to the palace dungeons.
He had escaped, knowing the danger.
I saw him later as we were carted through the city, peasants poking sticks through the bars of the cage. There was not a touch of remorse on his face as he stood watching us go by, and I finally realized that he had planned this all along.
And so here I sit,gucci riem, my cell damp and deserted, my friends dead by torture and I next. Once again cursing myself for allowing him to damn us as he did.
A word of advice to you... You can't trust a rat.
~
Tada. All done. I should have the second chapter of "A Recipe for Chaos" out soon. Review if you have the time.
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