I thought the painters looked suspicious the moment they pulled up in a murder van.  My sister and I had been listening to way too many podcasts about true crime and it was all we could talk about.  Suddenly everyone looked suspicious and everyone had the potential to be a murderer.  My sister laughed about my overactive imagination and made it clear that she was not having the same crime filled dreams like I was having.  My dreams often left me in a cold sweat when I woke up due to someone was usually being robbed or murdered, but almost immediately wrote them down so I could tell every detail to my sister later.  Most of the time she didn’t seem to care. 

The three men who got out of a painting truck but had no paint on their clothes, did seem a little suspicious.  Where were they going and what were they doing on the street?  I reached for my notebook so I could jot down my ideas for my next story.  I often wrote short stories from what happened around me, but was hoping to one day progress to the point of writing a book.  The men all stood at the back of their ‘paint’ truck and acted as if they were pulling out equipment, but I could see nothing relating to painting show up on the sidewalk, I felt my nerves skyrocket.  When they looked directly at my bedroom window, I knew I was in trouble.