Thief, a name i liked, a description that fitted me.
I have contempt for those petty criminals, i spat the word, who only took what they could, who stole for the money.
The true prize is the knowledge that you are the best, the knowledge that no one can beat you the feeling of invincibility.
The thought rang through my head, my old belief ringing in my ears.
My young arrogance surprising me.
Invincibility, the true gift, those who crave it are doomed to search forever, they wont find it, no one can be invincible, no one is infallible.
I have learned this, once in my mind i was the strongest, the fastest, the best, but i learned different i was beaten, i was humbled. Now i still steal, now i do it for the rush, that moment where everything goes perfectly, but even that pales in comparison to the realisation that there is something else,
something better, a reason to live, a reason to exist, this was my discovery, this was what i had searched for.
Heroism, perhaps the true path, i dont know, im a thief, im just looking out for number one.
But for a split second i felt the thrill, the satisfaction of being a hero.
I tried once to be a hero, it didnt go to plan...