The sound of glass breaking shattered the silence in the old house. The sudden noise instantly abolished the quiet and dark of midnight as lights flickered on throughout the streets. Faint voices could be heard as windows slid open. When the commotion died down, sirens sliced thorough the cool air.

Reports of the late night burglary appeared in the news. There was only one suspect; me. Although I had been the only one home at my house, I hadn’t broken into the neighbors. They said that my fingerprints were all over their stuff. That’s only because they had moved in a month earlier, and I had helped them out. I remember that their maid had cancer and wasn’t working, so nothing got cleaned to wipe away my fingerprints.
I was on house arrest. I couldn’t go anywhere, and I didn’t want to. Nothing happened that day, except for the neighbor across from the one who got robbed coming over and asking if we could watch his house while he was gone on business. “Nothing will happen because of our cameras in the front, but you can never be too safe.” Then it hit me; the cameras. If I could get the cops to look at those cameras that had the evidence that I needed, I would be free. I remembered the detention center lady who came over and gave me her card. I dialed it up, and told her to come immediately. When she arrived, I took her across the street to the man who gladly showed us the evidence. My name was cleared.