The Thief and The Fairy - Chapter One
As
I walked alone within these empty silent streets of the night, almost
as if left behind by time, I am reminded that it has been 20 years since
I have been living in this mess of a town. It’s not a mess because of
the way it looks, rather it’s a mess because of how organized it is.
A town which has an immovable hierarchy with the rich at the top, woven
together with a web of connections between those who matter. I despise
that system, those who created it, and the ones who lives with it. But
what I despise the most is this reflection I see while standing in front of
a window. I hate myself for being so powerless, pathetic, and pitiful.
Acting all victimized. I have labeled myself as a fault of this society
without even giving a fight. I’ve forsaken myself to crimes as a way of
self gratification and became a thief. I hate myself for becoming a
thief now, but there is nothing I can change anymore. No one is able to
accept a person who sees nothing, but the ground before them. No one
would want a person who is ashamed of himself; of his disheveled black
hair, of his black and white hoody, of his black jeans, and of his black
shoes. Everything of my possession was taken from someone else one way
or another, there was nothing I took pride of having. The one and only
thing I could be proud of, was the name “Will”. It was given to me by my
mother; or so I have been told.
My
mother died soon after I was born and my father was missing even before
that. I was put into an orphanage since birth as a result. This ever
changing make believe family was all I had. As I grew up seeing how
happy adoption was, I naturally wished the same for myself. I looked
forward to that one day when someone would welcome me into their lives.
But year after year no one wanted me, all I saw was members of this make
believe family of mine, slowly, being worn thin by the happiness of
soon to be parents. Year after year I look forward only to be left
behind.
Despite
all my disappointment I still believed that there was a place for me
out there. I was good at school, but I never believed it’d get me what I
wanted. As a result I skipped school and started working full-time at a
nearby family restaurant at the age of 16. I planned to continue
working there and save up money to start a life of my own. But it was
right when I was able to rent a small apartment, after I left the
orphanage at the age of 18, that the restaurant which I worked for ran
out of business.
With
my plans shattered into pieces, I was desperate. I only had another
month’s rent money left, and it was winter. I wanted to avoid living on
the streets in the cold, I couldn’t risk getting sick and waste more
money. I searched everywhere for a job. For a chance to put the
scattered pieces of my plan back together, but no one needed me. No one
knew me. I had no connections at all in this world where happiness can
only be found within a bubble. They didn’t want to risk inviting someone
unknown into their bubble, only to find out later that the individual
was a needle. I tried to go back to my orphanage, the only bubble I
have, but when I arrived at its doorstep my only bubble has now popped;
the orphanage moved. Having only a month of rent money and barely enough
for myself to eat for the week, I was in complete despair.
It
is at that time that I saw a hint of light while stumbling in the
streets. It was not an angel and sadly it wasn’t the white light either.
It was a wallet that was barely visible from the open pocket of a tall,
thin man in a white coat. Without even a moment of hesitation I made my
move and bumped into him, taking his wallet. I immediately took the
cash out of the wallet and left it on a stone ledge nearby. My heart was
racing with fear and filled with guilt, but I have never felt so
relieved in my life.
I
was a needle within a field of bubbles. They avoid me, they reject me,
they want me to rust away and disappear. But I am a needle and that
means I am thin and I am in control of myself. I am unlike the bubbles
which float on top of the flowing wind. All I need to survive is to slip
into the bubbles around me, take a little amount of happiness for my
own, and leave the bubble before it notices and pops. It was their fault
for pushing me this far, was what I thought. I blamed my misery on them
and took the liberty of helping them “take responsibility” into my own
hands. I never felt so alive in my life, it was as if I had found my
meaning in life.
But
deep inside I already knew that this was a mistake, a
misinterpretation, a misunderstanding. The more I continue this new
occupation of mine, the more I began to look down on myself. It was a
warped way of survival, an empty self-gratification.
I
became quickly irritated in the things I own. It didn’t matter what
they were, I couldn’t stand them being within my vicinity. I thought I
was just tired of them and that they were old. But no matter how many
times I change them the irritation never left, and only got worse.
Frustrated by this never ending feeling of irritation, I decided to take
a walk outside. The streets were as lively as always, nothing special
was happening. I decided to eat out and went to a family restaurant for
old time’s sake. Not to my surprise the waiters were horrible. I could
have done better. As I finished my meal and was paying the bill, a
family celebrating their sons test marks caught my attention. I was
jealous at how happy they were, but oddly enough I didn’t despise them. I
couldn’t help, but imagine myself in their son’s place. It was at that
moment though, that I heard a word from the father that hurt me like
nothing before; he said “You earned it!”. The pain hurt me so much that
if I had stayed any longer I thought I would have died. When I arrived
at my apartment I realized that I wasn’t irritated with my possession,
but with myself. Looking at all the things I had in my apartment, there
was nothing I could call my own; I didn’t earn any of this.
I
tried to give myself the excuse that I earned them through my efforts
of stealing, but it only dug the knife within my heart deeper. By the
time I realized this for myself it was already too late, I could no
longer look at myself in a mirror. I had become so dependant on stealing
that I no longer see any other way of survival within this society. I
have gotten so experienced in the ways of a thief that I was no longer a
needle, but a discoloured bubble housing my own despair. I no longer
needed to slip into another’s bubble to take what I need; a simple touch
between us was more than enough for me to steal from them. It was only
when I realized how ugly and different I am with my surroundings, did I
finally become assimilated into it’s flow.
I
laughed at how the world was so ironic, at how I was abandoned when I
needed help the most, and at how when I no longer needed help; I wanted
to abandon myself. “What a mess.” was what I thought of this world.
Nonetheless
I continued my life of thievery. As I wander around the town to find a
new target, I saw a light in the distance disrupting the gentle moonlit
town before me. It was a party, a gathering of happy people, a herding
of defenceless sheeps. Intoxicated by the comfort and pleasures of
company, people had their guards down; appearing like fruit trees free
to pick from. But I decided not to take from that defenceless forest;
rather my aim is within the house; the earth which the forest is rooted
on.
As
I make my way into the house, acting as a late guest, I was welcomed
warmly with little to no accuracy. Their indulgence in alcohol was what
allowed my infiltration. Suspicion was non-existent, caution was absent,
and confusion was abundant. Everything was going beyond expectations,
and when the host announced an event called “Fairy Hunt” I couldn’t be
happier.
But
as I make my way into the house and try to locate their valuables, I
noticed a certain person was watching me. Being cautious I delayed my
plans a bit and acted as if I was watching the event. It was pathetic
even to a person like me. Seeing grown men and women wasting the night
in a mindless game of tag; around the pool in their backyard. The only
difference was that the ones being chased were girls in swimsuits,
wearing a pair of fairy wings on their back. When one of the “Fairies”
fell into the pool and got everyone’s attention, there was no better
time to act. I immediately made my way into the second floor of the
house and began to search for the valuables. The master bedroom is
without a doubt the ideal location to keep the most valuable items;
especially the areas which belongs to the “Lady of the House”.
When
I found the master bedroom I quickly entered without a sound, making
sure I close the door behind me. As expected no one was present. I make
my way in the darkness within the room, using a flashlight shining
through my pocket to reduce it’s brightness. The room was large and
organized in a simple way. A bed to the left of the door with
nightstands by its sides, the bathroom and closet were along the side of
the entrance, a large window facing the entrance, and the desk and
makeup table were opposing the bed. I knew immediately where to go. As I
make my way to the drawers of each table without any sound at all, I
couldn’t help, but be filled with a sense of accomplishment. This is one
of the many miscellaneous attachments I have to this regretful
occupation of a thief.
But
as I reach for the treasures I have found in the room, once again I
noticed a presence near me. I instantly closed my flashlight. As a thief
I can’t be more careful with my surroundings, experience has taught me
that; I had almost gone to jail when a passerby caught me picking
pockets. I waited patiently for something to happen, or at least until
my eyes got used to the darkness. With my vision slowly becoming cleared
from the black haze moments ago, I continued with my thievery. With a
bag I brought with me I took few rings and necklaces along with the
stray cash within the drawers. It was a small bag, a little pouch, its
size was meant to limit what I could take.
As
I finished putting the stolen goods inside my pouch, the curtains that
hung over the window suddenly blew open. My eyes were blinded by the
sudden burst of moonlight in the room. Was it because the windows were
open? Or was someone here all along? With the sudden thoughts of fear
filling my heart and my eyes still abused by the moonlight, I was
rendered back into the helpless being that I was two years ago.
Panicking
within the midst of this unwelcomed nostalgia, something soft and cold
gently pressed against my left cheek; there were three surfaces. They
lightly glided towards my ear, tracing the contour of my face,
introducing a fourth and a fifth surface. Immediately I recognized the
sensation. They were the fingers of another person.
“Shouldn’t
I be escaping right now?” I asked myself, but my body didn’t answer; it
was frozen by the hand of this person. The sensation on my cheek,
within this fragment of time, eased all the anxiety I had built up just
seconds ago. My entire being was confused by my abnormal reaction to
this person’s abnormal way of dealing with a stranger. For a moment I
wanted to stay like this for a while longer. But I know I shouldn’t do
it, so pushed that hand off of my face; it was thinner than I have
imagined.
Although
my eyes have yet to adjust to the sudden moonlit room, I made a run for
it. But not to my surprise I was immediately pushed down. I’m not about
to give up, I’m prepared to even fight my way out if I had to. I must
escape, or else all the effort I put into living in this world would be
meaningless.
It was at this moment that a soft woman's voice was whispered into my left ear...
“Look at me.”
Unconsciously
I did what she told me; I couldn’t resist. I looked upward to find
myself in the presence of a woman, pinning me onto the floor. Never
could I have imagined a human like this could exist. Her hair, dyed
turquoise with highlights of white, was shoulder length. Her bangs were
pushed to the right of her face with the rest tied to the back, exposing
her eyes. Her skin, flawless like the freshly fallen snow, almost
emitted a light of its own. Appearing so smooth that even the moonlight
which was cast upon her slid off like water. Her eyes, which was most
unimaginable, coloured my reflection pink; seducing my attention
effortlessly.
When she confirmed that my attention is on her, her lips unsealed.
She
asked with a smile “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be
hunting “Fairies”?”. I replied while I moved my eyes away from hers “I
have no interest in that shameless game.”. She gently laughed at me and
asked “Are you sure what you’re doing is more righteous than what they
are doing down stairs?”. She lifted the pouch I had in my hand. She
continued “I’m sure this is much more shameless than chasing girls in
bikinis who agreed to do so themselves.” I snapped at her “Give it
back!”. I tried to snatch it away from her, but she had me in the palm
of her hands. She took the moment I tried to take back my pouch as a
chance to regain eye contact with me. Our foreheads were touching; she
was teasing me. Staring straight at me she questioned “Why aren’t you
running away? You’re a thief right? Isn’t it already bad enough to be
caught? Let alone stay pinned by a fraile girl like me.” I questioned
her back “Why aren’t you reporting me in? You caught me right? You think
this is amusing don’t you?”. She replied “What would you do if I
report you? Would kill me?”. I fell silent, I couldn’t answer that. I
didn’t want to answer it. She put a finger on top of my lips and
whispered into my left ear once again “Don’t worry I won’t report you,
but only if you leave something behind. Will you leave this bag of
your’s behind?”. It was not even a choice, it was my only option and in
my favour at that. I could simply target some other place afterwards and
I still had some money saved up from my last “job”. It was obvious what
my answer would be, there was no need for hesitation. So in response to
my resolve I answered her.
“No.”
___________________________________________________________________________________Thanks for reading
Story and Art By: WrittenDusk
I like how you compare life with bubbles.
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