I hadn’t seen the Richards House in years, but it looked exactly the same as it always did when we pulled off to the side of the road in front of the wooden eyesore. It may have just been the intensity and nerves of the operation, but I felt a childish fear creep into the back of my skull when I looked up at the rotten wood of the house and saw it shining in the sliver of moonlight the spring crescent provided. Maybe it was the pepperoni stick mixed with the metallic taste of the Monster I had scrounged from Chad on the drive combined with the grate of the metallic music, but I had a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I followed Ricky and Chad up the steep walkway of loose dirt and long grass which led up to the Richards House with my eyes on the house the whole way until we were just a stone’s throw from the front steps. Something was off about the third-story crow’s nest of an attic. I swore I could see a light on, what looked like a lamp, shining through the thin sheet of white curtain which hung in front of the open window.

“There’s a light on up there,” I whispered up to Ricky and Chad.

Ricky and Chad stopped and looked up. The light was gone. I wished I hadn’t left that ski mask in the car because I was blushing.

The two guys I have already described multiple times as losers both turned around and just shook their heads at me.

“Lil Derek is gonna piss his pants,” Ricky said in a mocking tone. “Let’s just get this shit done and get the fuck out of here.”