Two+Million+Dollars,+Tang+May

When I woke up that morning, I saw a bag, filled with what looked like two million dollars at the bottom of my bed. Inside the bag, I also found a note that had been folded and buried inside the money, but was slightly sticking out. I carefully picked up the note but it was too late for me to read it because I heard my mom walking towards my room, her high heels clicking against the wooden stairs.

The money! I had to hide it! I quickly grabbed the bag and stuffed it in the bathtub and pulled the shower curtains closed. My mom came in and was confused; I was out of bed already and I usually never get out of my bed before breakfast. I pretended that I was using the bathroom. She told me that breakfast was ready and I should just come down when I was done.

I knew exactly where that money came from and how it ended up at the bottom of my bed. It must be them, I was sure it was them.

I worked for a group called Jackson, doing work that most people don’t normally want to do, which involves killing.

Mom started yelling my name again, but I told her that I had to go. It sucks to be living with your parents when you’re 27 years old, trust me. I quickly cut a big square under my mattress and hid the money underneath it. I hadn't had much money or many belongings before now but I didn't really care much about that - I had two million dollars.

Then I thought for a minute.I realized what that this money was going to cost me.

The streets were louder than usual with children running around everywhere, they closed the street. There were no cabs. I sped down the street to the nearest subway station. Jackson had always taught me that subways were one of the safest forms of transportation; lots of people, trains reversing once they reached the ends of the lines; it would make me harder to track. I pulled my cap down closer to my eyes, pulled up my hood and walked onto the platform. I kept my head down.

I took the train to the south. After four stations I got of the train and walked on foot for another three miles. At Jackson, my group and I were always moving so I was used to it.

The door to my hideaway was locked but my key didn't work. I shook the door harder. Then I decided to break in. Suddenly everything went dark.

When she was interviewed by the police a week later, Ashton's mother said that she hadn't seen him after he left the house that day without eating his breakfast.