Name: Kirimi Shimizu<br/>Age:20 (image below)<br/>How she became rich: Occasional modeling jobs<br/><br/><br/>Kirimi slept alone in her king sized bed, dreaming away. No noise but the sound of her fan whispered sweetly into her ear. She was at a place of comfort most would find impossible. She didnâ€™t dare roll over, or move a inch for that matter. She had found a paradise one where her dreams and bed mingled. Everything was perfection to her. But her eyes fluttered opened. She sat up ruffling her hair a little in a diluted daze, wondering what had woken her so suddenly.<br/><br/>With hazy eyes she looked around the room, and saw nothing but the moonlight pouring through her windows. Then she heard it. A rustling downstairs. Her eyes snapped open. Her mind immediately went to the worst case scenario, a murder. She cowered a little in her bed, her breathing jagged. But with a brave move she touched her feet to the floor of her room. She turned on her lamp with a shaky hand, and opened the end table drawer.<br/><br/>She riled past a few books that occupied most of the space, but soon she took out her hand, a unused pistol quivered in her hand. Kirimi never thought sheâ€™d have to use it, she practically dreaded the fact she might have to now. She felt sick. Her mind racing with possible outcomes of what may happen. She swallowed hard, as she began inching to the door as silently as she could.<br/><br/>She went as carefully as she could down the hall desperately hoping the floor wouldnâ€™t creak. The last thing she wanted to do was alert her â€˜guestâ€™. Every shadow she passed by was a potential intruder. She reached the stairs, and began her descent. She pointed the gun all around her in defense. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a light. It was coming from the kitchen.<br/><br/>She shook as she walked closer and closer to the kitchen. Barely able to keep a steady grip on the gun. She soon stood in the archway of the kitchen, her eyes watering from horror. She saw him in her refrigerator, eating whatever he could find. For a minute she just stood there watching. She pointed the gun toward his torso, and with a hoarse voice finally made herself known.<br/><br/>â€œW-what are you...doing in my house?â€ She stammered a little with a slight tremor in her voice.