Chapter 8- Before the Mistake

Before the mistake, my life was one adventure after another. I was paid to do a job where my life was constantly on the line, and I was committing crimes were punishment seemed inevitable and the worst punishment was always applied.

That is, if you didn't get caught.

One of the greatest skills my job demanded was to be an escape artist. My clients would not save my from some far away jail, so I had to get in and out as fast as possible, and as slick.

But I was made for it-no, not only made for it-designed for it. I was made for the adrenaline, the constant surprise, and the hidden fear of knowing there was a chance I would never return. I needed it like the air I breathed, but suddenly, it seemed less important to me. I lost all need to keep myself supported to save others. Something I never did, but I did that time, and in all good conscience. Normally, I wouldn't care, as long as the person who got it promised to keep my planet and me safe. Otherwise, it was out of my jurisdiction. But I crossed the line, and put myself on the line more than I ever had before, and now I was stuck with my consequences. I could never again live a normal life, or go on a walk without constantly looking behind my shoulder.

I was trapped as this wanderer, never to settle down. I could never be a mother, or tell all my secrets to close friends like most high school girls did. I could never get married, because if I was even given the hint that they knew where I was, I would have to flee again.

I'm a coward now, running and hiding, like a small child with no where to go. I'm like the leaves that fly away when the wind comes and settle down for a while, over and over again, until I decay into the ground. I have nothing to truly hope for but to keep living. Who knows what I'm even living for? I have no family, and most of my friends are far away, dead or being punished for my decision.

My decision-that's what it was; my decision to put others before my friends, before my life, before my work. I put them first, and got burned, and I would continue to get burned until I was dead and gone, or I was burned to death.

I know that's such a gloomy way to look at it, but in a way, it is. On the bright side, all of the people are safe. On the darker side, the weight of keeping them safe still rests on my shoulders.

So who could carry the weight after I was gone? I suppose no one. I can trust no one, so what's the good of telling others?

It scares me to think that I'm being hunted down like an animal by an almost totally unknown foe. It makes me feel like a scared little child, afraid to look under the bed. But what was there to do? Nothing, nothing at all.

In the mess of all this, I know one thing for sure: I made a decision, and I would die and go to hell before I back down on my decision. Because even if it may have seemed bad, I knew it was the right thing to do, and I would stand by that until the very end, come what may.

You hear that, you stupid mafia?

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