A/N: It's been a while since I've written a story so this is definitely not one of my finest works. It's very short and fast-paced, but it's good for not having written anything for, like, four months. So this is my best for right now. IT kind of came in my head during English class.
Enjoy and please R&R!

The floor creaked under her feet with every step she took. She wasn’t heavy, but the mansion was so old that the touch of a feather to its wooden floorboards made it moan in agony. She wielded her weapon with care. Dust covered every surface. A slice of the Swifter uncovered the hidden object.

Anita Belle was the cleaner for the wealthy Touffle-Wentherwort family. She would come in once a week, usually Sundays, to clean their home with the very care and precision of anyone as proud as she was of her art. It would always be heartbreaking when she’d return the following week to find the mansion as if she had never been there in the first place. It had been a year since she had seen the family, but she assumed that they were always at church.

With the main level spotless, Anita travelled upstairs. The vacuum was already set up and plugged in, letting her start on the carpet right away. The whining of the vacuum mixed with the groaning of the mansion left little room for thought in Anita’s mind. Robotically, she pushed the vacuum out and pulled it back in. Finally, the hallway was clean. She turned off the vacuum and proceeded to roll up the cord. The silence was loud in her ears.

The next noise was sudden and ear-splitting. Shh. The flush of the toilet startled Anita. She stumbled backward and dropped the vacuum. Her heart began to race. She remembered her car being the only one in the driveway. Of course, there was always their garage but she was aware that the Touffle-Wentherworts’ garage was a catastrophic mess all the time (she had been ordered to ignore that part of the house).

Anita spun around and hid by the jamb of the nearest bedroom. She could hear the tap turn on and off as the stranger washed their hands. She licked her lips which had suddenly turned dry by her loud breathing. She felt tingles on her forehead where sweat began to form. The bathroom door creaked open and she clawed the wooden white jamb, pursing her lips to hold in a cry of worry and fear.

The stranger who walked out the door wore all black clothing. A black balaclava hid his face. He wiped his wet hands on his shirt.

Anita raked her memory for any weapons she had on her, but the only thing that came to mind was the vacuum, which was not five feet from where she stood. If she acted fast, maybe she could pick the vacuum up and knock him out? Several different defensive actions came up in her head. None of these actions, unfortunately, could be acted upon as she stepped backward onto something, causing a piercing oouiii to echo the hallway. Terrified, she looked down to see the source of the noise: a plastic toy. It took a moment to register that she was in the room belonging to Rodney, the two year old Touffle-Wentherwort. Looking back up, she noticed that the stranger had frozen in place.

Summoning up all the courage she could, Anita darted to the vacuum cleaner and held it in one hand. “Wh-who are you?” she stammered, not fully able to sound confident. She shuffled closer.

“Nobody that you need to know,” the stranger said. His voice was deep to the point of being almost unfathomable. He turned to face the cleaner and, seeing the vacuum in her hands like a weapon, he raised his hands. “I’m not here to harm anyone.”

“Oh, yeah?” she asked, edging forward some more. “What are you doing here, then?”

The stranger hesitated to respond. He sighed and slowly pulled off his ski-mask. His eyes were a piercing blue, his jaw was squared and hard and he had a mole above his right eyebrow. If he hadn’t been in the mansion with a very thief-like disguise, Anita might have taken him for a trustworthy man.

“I am poor,” he said finally, dropping his head in his hands. “The Touffle-Wentherwort’s have so much and my family…we have so little. I thought the house was empty, I thought…”

Anita tightened her grip on the vacuum. She understood how he felt, her family wasn’t very rich. Why did this family have so much and hers have so little? But she couldn’t allow this man to steal from the house she was cleaning just because she understood. She clenched her jaw tight and spoke through her teeth, “Did you take anything?”

“No!” the man exclaimed. “I came in and changed my mind instantly. I was just leaving.”

“How can I be sure?”

“You can trust me. I am an honest man. I don’t mean any harm. I just wanted to help my family,” he promised. His head tilted to the side as he examined Anita.

“You know,” he said, “you have very beautiful eyes.”

Anita felt a blush colour her cheeks. “Alright, then,” she gave in. “But you have to leave now.”

“Yes ma’am,” he smiled, following the cleaner as she headed down the stairs to the front door. When she opened the door for him, he walked out suddenly feeling cheerier than he had not long ago. In fact, he could sing!

He hummed a tune as he strolled down the street and away from the Touffle-Wentherwort’s mansion. His hand was in his pocket, playing with his newest finds. How much would each diamond-loaded necklace sell for? Twenty-five thousand? Thirty-five thousand? A smile played upon his lips and he came to a conclusion: flattery gets you everywhere.