No.  I told myself. I definitely heard something. I slowly set down my scrub brush and stood, looking around the kitchen before sneaking towards the back room. I looked through the window, but saw nothing. Cautiously, I opened the door and peeked in. Seeing nothing still, I stepped into the back room. It was filled with boxes, probably new plates and such; the plates were always being broken here. I looked around, searching for any signs of intrusion. Seeing none, I turned to leave. Suddenly, a box fell from one of the shelves, connecting with the floor in front of me with a resounding CRASH. I jumped, squeaking in surprise. I quickly looked up, only to see a pair of bright blue eyes looking right back into my own E/C ones.

I froze, terrified at this sudden appearance. The eyes blinked once before I was greeted with a high pitched 

"MEOW." 

I sighed in relief as the cat jumped down from the shelf, landing on top of the misshapen box. It was a Siamese, and it seemed to have broken into the back room in search of food. (A/N sorry if you're allergic to cats.In this story you aren't.) I sighed, shooing the cat away to pick up the box of what could only have once been plates. Joe was going to kill me. After cleaning the plates up, I left the store room and went back to the kitchen to continue cleaning the grease pot. 

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