You steal, as a way to cope, to make yourself feel again. The thrill, the fear. It felt good.

You walk past a large man wearing a skull mask, and notice that his wallet was slowly falling out of his pocket. You quickly reach back, swiping it out of his pocket. An hour later you’re walking through a grocery store, when you run into the man again.

“You have something of mine. I’d like to have it back.” He says, looking down at you, crossing his arm over his chest.