Rachel O’Connor writes, Sunday, August 5th, we leave for San Diego, California.

Sunday, August 5th, we leave for San Diego, California. Six Days later, we come home to find we have been robbed.We enter our home, at about 6 in the afternoon, all is well, I enter the bathroom, and my mom goes into her room. She screams.I run out of the bathroom and into my parents room. The room is wrecked. The money box is out on the bed from the hiding spot in the closet. All the drawers are open and emptied onto the floor. The bed is a mess, and the tv has been moved. My dad rushes in. His face turns white. “We’ve been robbed.”I ask him to check my room, I am too scared. He rushes upstairs. My room is fine. Then he runs into my brothers room.The window is open slightly. The screen is ripped apart. evrything is helter-skelter. The kitchen knife it on the counter. I forget all bout fingerprints and pick it up. Then I remember. “Darnit…” I mutter. Then I call my friend, who has watched over my pets all week.She is here within seconds. She says, “I came here yester day at about 7:30 p.m. The house was fine, there was no mess in your parents room.” I trust her, she is only 11, and a very trustworthy person. Then we call the police.The policeman arrived in a patrol car and pulls up to our door. My dad filled him in on what happened. We had no Idea if anything was stolen. Thecop tells us how the broke in, my brother’s window isby thegarage roof, they pulled the ladder up and climbedup, wrenched open the window, and climbed in. He dusts, but no avail. Everything is smudged. But, he did find that there were two sets of handprints, one on top of the window, and one on the bottom. He investigates th neigbors, it turns out my brothers’ friends’ bike was taken too.I hope we find who did this. I have complete faith in my friends.


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