Moral of the story

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I'm lazy rn so forgive me for any errors in grammar. Anyways, please enjoy.

Word count: 2896







A thief is what the world called your kind of people. A thief that would need to be put to Justice for the world to see, to stand on a podium and declare your surrender by putting cuffs on you.

Not how you were going down. Not in this lifetime. You were a silent, sneaky, and unpredictable thief. Your whole life its just been you and stealing, the only friend you had to get pass in life. If the world known you and what you did, you'd be a wanted person. Everyone would be looking for you in every crack and crevice. That's why you did these things silently and in the shadows. You weren't seen but your habits were. You passed by a coffee shop one time after stealing some guys wallet and looked at the TV. You still remember the mutters and gasps of concern that came by everyone who stopped to watch. The smirk on your face hidden but inside you felt like you were finally important. The news lady casting the various missing items and reports in the city, you were one of the few to be this good that you go on the news. This was just your life, how you were living it with no regrets. That was- until you rolled up on a person who seemed trained to be aware of your kind.

You were walking down the street holding up a 50 to make sure it was real. You just stole some girls change, watch, and even her phone. Another gullible person to blind to see the real world. You tossed the phone behind you finding it irrelevant as you went through her wallet. ID, Drivers license, another 50, business cards, coupons, and a pencil. You dumped everything and just took the 50 and left the alleyway. Sneaking back into the crowd of people, you went into a coffee shop and decided to make your money worth wild. You sat at a table and ordered a lemonade with fries, to your luck they weren't just a normal coffee shop. A man was sitting across from you on your left, he had a baseball cap on that was hiding his face from the world it seemed. Both hands on his drink, and looking down at the table, he looked like one of you. A person who gets by in life from stealing and laying low. You left it alone and tore your eyes away from him, you didn't know that he saw you too. He recognizes people like you just by how you look, he knows what you are. His eyes snap to his side as he watched you steal a guy's watch that passed by your table. It was impressive really, how you just took it so fast that the guy didn't notice it was gone. You also stole the extra change put his back pocket before he completely passed you. No one saw. No one but the guy next to you, who you didn't see.

The waiter came back with your order and you thanked him giving him the change you stole from the passing guy. You knew what you were doing and exactly how you were going to do it. Once you finished, you got up and left the building blending in with the crowd on the street once more. The guy followed you out the building as well, tipping the same waiter and quietly following you. Once you made it to another random alleyway is when you noticed you were being followed. You didn't turn around, instead you continued your pace to your hideout in hopes of losing him around the many turns and spaces you'd pass by. You came across a house that you stop by all the time and went to the their backyard, climbing the water pipe that led to the roof. You made it to the second floor and tapped on the window, a small boy coming and opening it and smiling as he saw your face.

"Y/n!" He hugged you giggling.

You shushed him laughing yourself. He was the one person in this entire world that treated you like family. That didn't throw you out like trash, ignore you, or even shoo you away. He liked you, he considered you his oldest sibling, one he dosen't have. A little boy, Mark, was your world. You swore to protect him, do the things every other family you've encountered wouldn't do. Of course, if his parents found out you'd be in jail or something like that, so you both decided to keep your meetups secret, hidden from any enemy. You pulled back from him a little and pulled out your 50 and handed it too him. His face lit up and he looked up at you with his brown eyes full of love and hope.

James Buchanan Barnes Imagines Where stories live. Discover now