A Tricky Way to Earn Money

At a fast food restaurant...

"For god's sake, James! Why do you keep giving them their change?!" asked my boss.

"Well, aren't you supposed to give the correct amount of change if someone pays too much?" I asked in response.

"Shhhh! Don't say that out loud! Our unofficial "No Change" policy is what keeps this place running and you people paid!"

"To be honest, you hardly pay us at all."

"Watch that tongue of yours, James. I don't want to have to dock your pay again."

"You give me nothing more than minimum wage! I gotta have a roof over my head! Have some ding-dong-damn consideration for the people who keep your pockets heavy!"

"To be honest, I could care less about where and how you live! Speaking of which, your new home will be the pavement! You're fired!"

"Fine! Good riddance you cheapskate!"

I stormed out of the restaurant, holding in every urge I had to storm back in and knock my old boss onto his good for nothing butt. I ended up stomping back to my small house at the near edge of my neighborhood. It was nighttime at that moment, and I was pretty tired. It was that moment why I realized that I greatly disliked other people. You see, in my neighborhood, almost everybody there was a complete jerk. If you wanted to make friends, it would only be fitting to play the theme song of "Mission Impossible", because today's generation of friend making is about the clothes you wear and the phone you have. Even if you are good with both of those things, it would not matter. The reason why I mention this is because that lead me to the real way I make a...somewhat living.

Ever since I was a kid, I thought that if I wanted something, I could just take it. I suppose what I did as a child was not so bad. Sometimes I would steal a sandwich or a packet of fruit snacks from my classmates. When I got into middle school, I went to the next level by pickpocketing the people I disliked. I would take as many coins or bills as my pockets could carry, but never phones or wallets. High school was when I really got into it. I started taking wallets from my enemies, taking their coins and bills, and sliding the wallet back in. I even got away with taking jewelry from jerks when they did not notice. When I got the jewelry, I wondered how I could make a profit from it. That's when I met Ivan. Ivan was a senior in high school who worked with his father at a pawn shop. I remember him catching me take some slutty girl's silver ring, and he offered to buy it from me. So, we made a bit of business: I take jewels, he buys it and I make profit.

However, once I got out of high school, I could not afford college. I had to make money fast. I only had my small house and $800 to pay rent and bills for maybe two or three months. I was getting desperate, I knew that I had to make some cash somehow. So, one night, I committed my first actual crime. I remember my heart rate that night. It was pounding so hard, my chest was hurting. I approached the local liquor store that had only 2 cameras. I pulled a large sock with holes for eyes over my head and prepared myself for the break in. I first went out of sight of the camera, and then smacked it with a hammer. It broke with a loud crunching noise. I then turned my attention to the front area, wondering how I was going to get in. I used the back of the hammer like a crowbar and pried the door open. I slowly creaked the door open wider and carefully entered. I clicked on my flashlight and scanned the store. The interior camera was pointed straight down, so I did not have to worry about that.

I turned my light off to hide myself and I went behind the counter. The cash register was right there, as if it were calling for me to take its contents. I tried to open it, but it refused to budge. I brought out my trusty hammer and used the claw to pry open the register's drawer. I heard it snap, so I set the hammer down and pulled open the register's drawer. I gasped to myself. There were bills from 1 to 50. Not to mention the amount of coins there were. I hastily stuffed the money and coins inside a plastic bag and hid it in my pocket. I closed the door behind me and ran off. When I got home, I felt a thrill run through my body. I poured the contents of the bag onto my bed and counted it. I had stolen a total of $3,023.62 from that store.

The next day, I did feel a little bit guilty about my robbery, but I was just happy that I could pay my rent for a long period of time. It was at that point where I turned over to a life of crime. There were times where I tried to get a normal job, but they were all the same: greedy and rude, just like everyone else in town. Trying to live off of stolen goods is not easy, but at least there was a roof over my head and food on the table.

When I'm not stealing from those crooked jackasses, my life is pretty boring. I don't have any friends to talk to, and my family is far away from where I live. I was not too bothered by this, as I was used to being alone at home. Thief life may seem like an easy life, but really, it's not. Your heart races, blood pumps in your ears, and you could be caught at any time. Not to mention that it can get harder every time if you do it too much. I barely made enough money for the essential things in life.

Anyways, nighttime approached, and all I was looking forward to was my lumpy pull-out couch. I entered my house, locked the door, collapsed on the couch and turned on the TV. I settled on some news channel talking about an increase of taxes. "Damn it," I said with a groan.

I started to fall asleep until I got a knock on my door. I got up and asked who it was. When nobody responded, I pulled out my pocket knife and carefully opened the door. When I did, all I saw was a four foot tall cardboard box with an envelope on it. I hesitated for a moment, until I tried to pull it through the door. It was HEAVY. I got outside to go behind the box and pushed it inside. After observing the box, I saw that it had no stamps, no return address, and no logos. The only thing that stuck out was an envelope. I opened it and found a letter. I pulled out the letter and started to read it. "For James. From, D-s-ord" The letter read, the name of the sender partially smudged.

"Should I open it?" I asked in my mind, groggily.

I decided to open it. I picked up my pocket knife and cut the tape. I put the knife back on the shelf and slowly pulled up the flaps. I was not prepared for what I saw.