"Ok, where is the Idol?" one of the men asked shoving a gun under my nose.
"Idol?" I asked.
"Yes. The antique Idol. From South America. Your grandfather had it," he said prodding my nose.
My mind raced - could my grandpa have changed the idol into a rock to disguise it. It made sense, if anything did. "Oh, right the idol. Um it's hidden in my room."
"Where?" he asked harshly. The grim blue metal of his gun so close to my eyes fixated me.
"I'll have to show you..." the gunmen looked at me for a moment then nodded, motioning for me to lead the way.
"No funny stuff. We've been told you can't touch it. Just point to where it is." I wondered if they knew what they were looking for. Somehow I doubted it. If I was going to hire someone to get a magic wishing stone for me I wouldn't tell them what it was. Not these guys for sure.
"Why can't I touch it?" I prompted.
"Be quiet," the man said, pushing me up the stairs with his gun.
We entered my room. They'd trashed it. Thrown all my stuff around. Broken my model planes. Ruined my action figures. Broken my stereo. Thrown my PC across the room. I was a little bit pissed off but even so I was scared. I reached down to pick up one of my torn books. That's when I saw the rock. I picked that up instead.
"You know. I wish...
