It was 12:15 p.m. The night was moonless... so black that Flowerdette needed a head flashlight, a torch AND her Iphone's flashlight. She had vision issues after all ... and forgot to bring her glasses for this night's theft episode.

Standing outside Jonathan's front door on the small marble porch, next to two white rosebushes, she tried to hold her breath. She couldn't.

It was now so loud it overshadowed both the cricks' chirping, the frogs and quacker ducks quacking and the nightingale that sung. All of these sounds were faint in the background ...
but how many animals did this guy have in their garden? The fishes could also be heard splashing.

She looked down at her black sneakers - laceless, in case she tripped over them and made noise. She wore long black tights to conceal her calves under the short white dress. It had to look like she was floating. Ghosts don't walk.

Flowerdette almost lifted her hand to ring the doorbell...but then she remembered she was here to break in, not to wait and then enter the front door like a normal, civilized person. This midnight cupcake stealing escapade was supposed to be an adventure, after all.

She crouched down and half crawled, half ran around the length of his house, looking for a window or even a bulldog door or massive hole in the wall to sneak in through to satisfy her pie hole.

"Goodness sake, I didn't even think this through, did I?" She spoke aloud, without realizing it, but not too loud.
What was the matter with her? Flowerdette clenched her teeth in frustration. And what was the chance that Jonathan or his mom would leave a large window open by accident...or out of pure nonchalancy?

She couldn't find one. But suddenly the cupcake thief noticed something that looked similar to a dog door at the back wall. Switching off her torch to avoid further alarming bright light spots on the walls, Flowerdette crept nearer, her shoes rustling the grass of the lawn softly. She stopped.

Some sound like an electronic device ringing rang through the center hall of the house. It became louder and louder...oh dear world, was it a theft alarm going off...? No...it sounded like a regular phone ringtone. A wake up alarm at this hour? For what??

A door opened and someone could be heard trudging down the hall in what sounded like slippers or night socks. The noise stopped and a light switch flipped.

Flowerdette could hear all this because she had her ear against the dog door. She noticed now that it wasn't big enough to climb in through, though.

She peered and saw Jonathan standing in front of the toilet door in a pair of long gray pajama pants and a matching shirt. There was a slight frown on his tanned face, his blondish-brown, rather thick eyebrows furrowed handsomely. His eyes were on the phone in his hand, although and he had earphones in his ears.

Thank goodness. Flowerdette sighed in relief. This meant her crush would (probably) not know about the burglary crime she was currently committing against him ... or the cheesecake, anyway!

Flowerdette rose up to her full height and ran around the right corner of the house to the front. Uh, there was a window. A brick laying nearby? No. Perhaps her leather sneakers with the slight heels would do. She lifted her heel...and glass shattered to the ground in all directions.

Flowerdette quickly jumped back. Too late. Pieces of glass hit her thighs as her dress lifted while she moved and cut into her flesh. A few largish blood spots appeared and blood trickled down her legs, but she jumped through the window like it was nothing. She could ignore pain on her thighs on one of her emotional highs.

Flowerdette ran down the main hall and flew into the kitchen, seeing what she supposed was the pantry door. Her torch was still off, but she nearly dropped her Iphone which she held loosely in her hand while swinging her arm to gain ground.

Flowerdette opened it, not as loud as her previous movement, this time, remembering that the rest of his family members should have heard the breaking glass and may have heard the jump and/or her running. Or perhaps not. Her crush flushed the toilet at about the same time she jumped through the window....

Flowerdette held up her flashlight and saw a large refrigerator standing in a corner.

Oh, screw it. Flowerdette stretched out her hand and flipped the light switch. She swung the fridge door open, eyes enlarging as response to the signal of her nostrils. Were there any cupcakes? No. But she noticed a two thirds eaten...but fresh smelling cheesecake covered in a plastic cap and... looks like a lone strawberry donut. Nah!

The cupcake thief wasn't in the mood for donuts. She reached out and grabbed the blueberry cheesecake with both hands. Ah...only three slices of it were left! And it looks store boughten, not homemade. Whatever. At least she was getting some free and effortless sugar clumps down her hungry piehole.

Flowerdette sank down on the pantry floor, cross legged, holding the large plastic plate and cake cover lid in both hands. She forgot to bring a little cake knife or spoon to dissect her free purchase with...but maybe she could use her hands.

Hesitatingly, she stuck her left hand down the center of the cake and brought it, completely covered in cream, crumbs and blueberry sauce to her mouth, when the pantry door was unexpectedly flung open...at top speed!

There stood Jonathan Harrison's elegant 42 year old, 5 feet 8 inches tall mother, dressed not in a silk night gown and a long velvet robe, but a purple off shoulder evening dress, wearing pearl jewelry, black hair pinned up on top of her head, and black three inch high heeled shoes.

Her sharp green eyes were encircled with eyeliner like a cosmetized cat and
her lips were painted dark pink. Her cheeks were mulberry coloured with blush and behind the utterly shocked and speechless woman stood her 6'4 husband in a white suit, shoes and hat. Mr Harrison, a successful businessman, had a facial expression slightly more composed and stern than his spouse's.

Flowerdette dropped the cheesecake. She didn't try to. Her hands fell limply to her sides. She slowly...very slowly...laid down her Iphone which she used to stare down the cheesecake texture's throat and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

She made a hoarse coughing sound in the back of her throat, almost inaudible.

"Who is this?" Liana Harrison demanded, waving her arm as furiously and inconsideredly as she could at Flowerdette, like she was shooing a poisonous, tiny cobra-like worm away. "Give that back instantly! Who on earth do you think you even are?!"

Mr Harrison took the cake firmly out of Flowerdette's hands, placed it on the freezer next to him and half lifted the young girl - who didn't exactly act like one - , who had a lowered head, to her feet. She looked up at them slowly, lips trembling and eyes brimming with tears. "I'm sorry. I wanted something...sweet. I w-won't ever ...do this again."

She didn't know it, but Jonathan's parents had been to a dinner party and were nearly home when he heard the window breaking, (his music was at a low volume) went to see who it was after about 10 seconds of stunned surprise (Flowerdette was already in the pantry by then) and then called his parents. He thought it was a robber, of course.

Jonathan Harrison now stood tall in the kitchen's doorway, not in his pajamas or a robe and his PJ's, but in sweatpants and a long sleeved v-neck t-shirt. He was even wearing day socks and leather shoes. His lips were slightly parted and wet, a deep, hypnotizing frown between his eyebrows, and he was peering intensely and inspectinly into her eyes.

In his gray, - now looking blue - male eyes it was obvious he was trying to unravel the character of this unexpectedly jumping-onto-the-scene female alien standing devastatedly in his pantry, merely staring at him in helpless terror, humiliation and embarassment.

She now appeared entirely feminine and ladylike, even to him. Her small, pointy face was clean, her eyes were large and soulful, and her bleeding hands hung limply at her sides. He couldn't see her lips - it was covered with a black-and-pink butterfly mask. Her hair hung in loose waves around her face, neck and shoulders.

Jonathan's eyes lowered to her blood stained thighs - her dress had ridden up when she levitated herself from the floor. They narrowed slightly, something very much like concern contracting in his eyes.

"What happened to your legs?" he asked sharply and louder than she expected...the last question Flowerdette thought to hear.

© @elsastrauss7