Have you ever been in one of those life or death situations, where your whole life flashes just before your eyes?

This begins with one.

My name is Kid—Original, I know, but don't blame me for my father's inability to think of a suitable name for his child. There really isn't much you need to know about me—I'm a normal teenager, 16 to be exact, though, I reside from a strange town, Death City, Nevada.

In the middle of the goddamn desert.

It really isn't that bad, though, a little warm but I can deal with it.

I'm also a Meister—You probably don't know what that is, most don't—We're a dying breed, along with the weapons.

But more about that later.

I'm a dirty thief. No really—I am, and I really wish I wasn't.

It only started a few years ago—You know, pocketing packets of gum from the corner store, simple things.

But it gave a nice rush, and eventually it screwed me over. I moved to bigger game—Houses, sneaking in late at night when the residence was gone—I never took items, just cash.

Father never questioned how I got it all.

I really wish he would have.

I didn't work alone—At least not at first, there was a group of us, but I got a little cocky and branched off alone.

Again, wish I didn't.

It was late—No one was home, which meant it was time to strike.

The window slide open with no problem—they must have forgot to lock it, unfortunate for them. Scrambling myself up and through the window I made a smooth landing, paused, surveyed the scene, and moved once determined clear.

Believe it or not this was a new part of town for me—The City is a fairly good size, and I mostly stuck close to home, though, nothing there was interesting anymore, plus, it'd start looking a little suspicious—Having all houses robbed but my own.

Didn't need anyone on my tail.

So, the other side of town was the next best thing—A lot shot from home, but if need be, I could run my way there. I might look like the little scrawny lanky Kid with not much muscle built up—But I'm not, I look it, but I actually have quite a build. Been the best runner in my Physical Education classes since I could remember, even took track my first year of High school, won a couple of awards even.

So, point is, I'm not as weak as I look.

But I am just as snarky.

Reaching into the pocket of my trouser I pulled out a mini, smooth black flashlight—One that's saved my ass many, many times in dark times like this.

Though, not this time.

"Come on, work…"

Clenching my teeth I kept my finger onto the button—But all that happened was a few flicks of the light, then nothing.

The battery was dead.

I didn't check the damn battery—But I swear I hadn't used it that much since the last use I got out of it…

Maybe it had been a little longer than I thought, so, I decided not to dwell on the thought and continue on with the job—I didn't need that much light, street lights shining in from outside were good enough for something as simple as this.

So I had thought.

By now my eyes had adjusted to the darkness, so, I decided to venture forth and slyly make my way through the house—Making sure to duck or dodge any windows, keeping myself from view. Sauntering my way into one of the bedrooms I went straight to the nightstand—People usually went to hide cash in little boxes or in clothing drawers—Thinking no one would look there.

It's all too common now, so, I always look there.

And just as I suspected, a couple hundred bucks tucked away in the top drawer of the nightstand, to which I didn't think twice before snatching up and pocketing.

The less time I had to spend in the house, the better.

Closing the drawer back up—As to not strike suspicion when the residence returned home, I carefully began to trudge my way back to the window I had come in—Making sure not to leave any marks or bump into anything, throwing the balance of the still house off, again, not wanting anyone to know that someone was here while they were not.

At least, not until they decided to check the drawer.

I thought it to be an easy job—A quick grab and a dash home, the best kind.

But it wasn't.

Not even close.

A sudden sound jerked me awake from my day dream of accomplishment, causing me to freeze and my yellowed eyes to widen.

It was from inside the house.

Someone else was here—But I hadn't heard any doors open, and I know for sure I was the only one in there.

Or so I thought to be.

Now, I was making a mad dash for the front door—I didn't even care to sneak out now, I just had to get our quickly, before I was caught.

I couldn't get caught—No way no how, it would ruin everything, and most importantly, it would ruin my father.

And I just couldn't do that to him.

The door was in sight—And nothing else was, I hadn't noticed anyone else yet, but the noise—it was in the house, it was someone breathing, I knew it to be—But wait, why was it so loud?

Because they were just behind me.

I felt a cold chill shoot up my spine that caused me to stop dead in my tracks, now, the last thing on my mind was getting to the door, and the first thing was getting out alive.