He wasn't sure what exactly it was he was doing

Barely In Time

He wasn't sure what exactly it was he was doing. I mean this was his area or expertise but he still didn't really have any idea. He had never stolen anything this large. It had never before been important that he succeed. Every other time it had been something small that wouldn't matter. He had never been caught, but then it had never mattered if he was. He had never before been nervous while stealing something. He had never before second guessed himself or been so self conscience. He was sure that someone was going to come around the corner at any second and catch him, and if he got caught that would be the end. She would die and there would be nothing that he could do to change it. He couldn't afford to get caught. Getting caught would ruin everything and it would cause her more pain. He needed this. She needed this. Never before had someone asked him to use his talent this way. Usually he was being told how wrong it was and told not to, but this time it was going to do someone some good. He knew that for once he was going something wrong for the right reasons instead of just doing it because he could. He needed to succeed.

Carefully he slid around the corner. His foot steps seemed unusually loud. The door was at the end of the hallway. All he had to do was get there, pick the lock, and he would be safe. Checking that the coast was clear, he started down the hallway, moving quickly and quietly. Just as he reached the door he heard footsteps. They sounded faint, but they were definitely coming this direction. He looked around him, trying to find a place to hide, but there were only blank white walls staring back at him. He needed to get the door open or risk being caught.

Quickly he bent down, pulled the bobby pin out of his hair, and started to work at the lock. All the while he was saying a silent prayer that he could just get inside the room. He could hear the foot steps getting louder, coming closer. Finally, at the last second, the lock dropped and the door opened. As fast as he could, he slid into the room and silently shut the door behind him.

It took his eyes a second to adjust to the darkness in the room after being in the bright hallway. He heard the foot steps pass and audibly let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding in. once he could see around the room, he was able to locate a cabinet on the far side of the room. He carefully walked around the out skirts of the room, being careful to touch as little as he could, making his way over to it. Once there he put on the gloves he probably should have been wearing this entire time. Opening the cabinet, he saw that it was filled with bottles of all sizes and it would take some time to locate which one it was he needed. He was tempted to just take all of them; it would be so much easier then sorting through them and searching for what he needed. But he knew that would be much more easily noticed and would raise the chances of him getting caught.

As carefully as he could he started to turn the bottles around so that he could see the labels. It was hard to make out the words in the dark; he had to squint to be able to see most of the writing. Lucky for him, the labels were all typed and not hand written as they would have been during periods of time in the past. The names were all long, and most of them he would never be able to pronounce.

Time seemed to pass extremely slowly as he sorted through the bottles, still unable to locate what he was looking for. He hoped that he was in the right room. He kept thinking back over the instructions he had been given, and then what he had done to get here. It seemed that he was in the right place, but yet he couldn't locate the right bottle. There were too many of them, and yet none had the right name, and all the different containers were starting to blur together in his mind, and he wasn't even sure of what he was looking for anymore. He needed to focus, but he knew that he didn't have much time left. He needed to find the right one and get out before someone needed this room.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, he found the right bottle. He quickly stashed it in his pocket and put the rest of the containers back. Closing the cabinet he turned around just in time to see the door knob start to turn. Moving as fast as he could he rolled under the table that was set up in the middle of the room. The sheet that was spread across it barely hung low enough to hide him. He could hear voices, two men, talking to each other as the light turned on. One of them walked across the room, towards the cabinet he had just been going through. He could hear the man move bottles around, could hear them clinking against each other. Then the man walked back across the room, the light went out, and he could hear the door close. He sat under the table, trying to slow his heart beat. He needed to get out of here, and quickly, but he also needed to give the men time to get further down the hall, and away from this room. So, he sat there for a few moments longer, waiting.

When he figured enough time had passed, he got out from under the table and walked to the door. He slowly pulled it open, and looked out, checking to make sure that no one was coming. Once he was sure that there was no one near by he slipped out and shut the door behind him. He quickly started down the hallway, rounding the corner just as he heard someone coming from behind him. He started to run. It didn't matter now, all he had to do was get out, and there would be a car waiting for him. All he had to do was get in the car and it would take him back to his house. And once he got back to his house all he had to do was give the bottle to her and then everything would be okay.

He started running faster and faster, moving as rapidly as his legs would allow. The door was just ahead of him now. He was almost there. He got to the door and shoved it open, rushing out into the sunlight. The car was waiting, just like it was suppose to be. He yanked the door open and slide inside, breathing heavily. "Drive", he told the driver, and they were off. He checked the rear view mirror to make sure that no one was following them, and then sat back in his seat. He had gotten away with it, and this would make everything okay again.

They made it to his house, and he jumped out of the car, and practically ran inside. "Emily, Emily!" he yelled as he opened the front door. But there was no reply. The house was silent, eerily silent. Something was wrong, very wrong. He moved quickly through the house, back to their bedroom. He saw her as soon as he entered the room. She was lying on the bed, and she wasn't moving. This wasn't right. He walked over to her, and felt for a pulse. He couldn't find one. He started to shake her, trying to wake her up, but knew she wasn't going to wake up. He was too late. It had taken him to long to get the medication. She had died because he had moved too slowly. He should have worked faster. He gripped her in his arms and began to sob. He couldn't believe this was happening. The disease had been killing her, but this plan was suppose to save her life, and yet she wasn't moving.

Just then she twitched, just a little. He looked down at her angelic face, and saw her eyes flutter. He reached into his pocket and pulled the bottle out. He ripped the top off and put one of the pills in her mouth. He watched as she swallowed, and a few minutes her eyes fluttered open. She looked up at him. He had made it in time, and she was alive, and everything would be okay. He bent down and kissed her, knowing everything would be okay.