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  • Published: 3 Feb 2017
  • Updated: 25 Feb 2017
  • Status: Complete
"I can't love you, no matter how I want to. Every time I let anyone close, they end up getting killed. It's best for you to just forget me. Trust me. "

"I can't love you, even though it hurts for me not to. I just can't put you through that. I can never forget you, but I can leave you. It's best that way. Even though this will hurt you, you'll be alive"


1. Easy Morning/ Storm

It’s all easy, just keep looking at your phone and keep walking. Now if just bump into this woman.

“OW! Watch where you're going!

“Oh sorry Mis my mistake”

The woman brushes off imaginary dust and straightens her coat. I small smile plays at my lips as she walks away. I dig in pocket and pull out her wallet, cheetah print classic!  I pull out a wad of cash and throw the wallet in the trash. I could have taken the credit cards too, but I don’t want ruin the poor woman’s life. I put the money back in my pocket, and pull my hood a bit more over my head.  The last thing I want is for someone to recognize me. Oh look! It’s the New York’s biggest thief! Let’s get a selfie! I roll my eyes.

At night when my mind’s clear I think about what could have been, who knows. Maybe a nice family would have came along and took me into their arms. They would fix my wounds physically and mentally, who knows I probably would have been worrying over some boy, or which shirt goes with which skirt. I smile as I think about me being the girl that asked to take a selfie with the biggest thief of New York.  I turn a corner and almost trip over a homeless man’s feet. I look at the poor man, his hair looks as if someone poured a bottle of glue on top of his head, his fingers are scarred and callused, and his face is covered in a sheet of sweat and dirt. But past all that I see something different

“Are you gonna stand there. Or are you gonna get it over with”

His voice is deep and gravelly. I look at his cardboard sign.


WoolD  U


a  Bli d

             Mon  ?     


I clench the money in my pocket. It wouldn't hurt to help someone in need. But if anyone sees me doing this, they’ll think I've gone soft. You know what. Who the hell cares. I rip out the wad of cash throw to the man eighty dollars.

“Do something good with it old man”

The man clenches the money and looks up at me. His grey eyes looks like glass.

“Thank you”

His dirt covered lips pull back into a smile showing brown and yellow teeth. But I cherish that smile, something I will never forget.




I knock a few times on the metal door, a few minutes later a slot opens and a pair of dark brown eyes peek through. They just have to look at me and the door opens. I step through and the door shuts behind me. I look at the boy controlling the door, Chris. He’s a cool guy, just asks too many questions.   

“Anything good boss?”

I take off my hood and lean back against the stone wall.

“Nothin much. Just the same old pickpocket Monday”


“The fat lady on Kurtz Street”

“Ah. Ya know Trevor was planning on her for quite a while”

“Ya well Trevor should plan quicker”

I roll my eyes, Trevor has been slow the past few months. I should talk to him, get him in gear. A knock on the door sends Chris to the door and me pulling my hood over my head again. Instinct.

“Catch you later” Chris whispers

As I disappear down a flight of stairs I hear the door open and the sound of a gun cocking back. It’s Chris’s job to search everybody to everything  that moves through here. Well everybody but me, leader perks. I reach the end of the stairs and head down a hallway filled with men and women strapped  to their waist with guns and ammo. Some nod as I walk by and I nod back. I go down another flight of stairs. Hide-out sweet hide-out. I spent two years building this place, now I hope everyday it stands. The Floors and walls are made of concrete of course, ​ Christmas lights, lights the place up, there was a huge hole in the ground so I just filled it with water, boom indoor swimming pool! A ping pong table stands in the corner, chairs and couches circle around a fire pit in the middle, our symbols on flags. A crow’s head, it symbolizes mysteries, magic, luck, and archetype of the trickster. Something a little like us.  A couple of people sit on the couch. The smell a oily herb smell. It lingers more than tobacco smoke in the air, I stop and look once more. There on the couch sitting in the middle is a dark haired man, smoke curls up in the air. I rip off my hood and start to walk over there. I swear if this stuff is ours.


The man’s head whipped around, eyes wide. He coughs up smoke and tosses the bud down on the ground.    

“Is this ours?”

I pick up the bud and hold it in front of him like holding a chewed up pillow in front of a dog and asking if he did this.

“I never seen that in my life”

That’s it!

I grab him by the collar of his shirt and yank him up off the couch and throw him into the wall. With a hard punch in the stomach he falls to the ground curled up in a tiny ball. I’m not done with him just yet. I yank him to his feet by his hair and give him four more hard ones in the stomach and two in the face. I let him go and he falls to the ground in instant, blood starts to pool around his face.

“Consider that a warning, next time. Well. There will be no next time!”

I turn round and see everyone gathered around me, straightening my shoulders I take a deep breath.

“That goes for the rest of you! Anyone that steals would end up like him! Do I make myself clear?”

Heads move up and down and voices are barely heard. I straighten my jacket and walk through the crowd, people move out of the way with scared looks on their faces. Sometimes I hate being the one they fear. I could feel my chest getting tighter, more and more fearful eyes looking at me. Not now. Please not now! My body feels deflated of air, I could feel prickles of sweat on my body. I break through the flood of people, but the eyes are still there. I could feel them on my back. I enter a corridor and start running until I reach stairs, taking two at time, sprinting through another corridor I reach my room. Throwing open the door I walk through and slam it and sink against the wall. It feels like my lungs are screaming for air. I curl up in a ball, tears threaten to spill onto my cheeks .

“Breath. Just breath”

I gasp in air, trying to calm myself down. Desperately I search for my phone and headphones in my jacket pocket, when I find them I shove the earbuds in my ears and turn on my phone. Passcode 1938. Exciting out of messages I click on the music. Scanning the lists of music like a mother searching for her child at a grocery store I finally see the one song that could save me from disaster. I listen to each word and focus on that, the guitar and the drums playing makes me feel light. I could feel the darkness of sleep pull me under. And for once in months, I sleep.


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