My Doomsday [A short story]

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I saw the signs. I had a feeling it will go wrong, still I went ahead with my plans. I was feeling a bit under the weather and my feet hurts that morning. If only I'd listened to Ramsey. The easy money, like I always call it pushed me. It wasn't up to what I stole the previous week, so I thought the mission will be easier. You know, the larger the money, the bigger the risk. Actually, it was suppose to be the easiest theft I've ever done. I heard Mr Samson revealing his ATM card PIN to his son, and I've been planning to get hold of the card ever since. With the help of Ramsey, I hacked into his phone and everywhere he goes was known to us. You can't imagine how happy I was when I found out he will be withdrawing two thousand dollars with his card on his way to a gym.

I've been a thief my whole life, a very brilliant one, if there's anything like that. I have stole from people without them knowing. I don't use guns or threaten people with knives. My only weapon is my brain. It all started when I was in high school. I was fourteen then. Stealing from Mr Francis was way too easy. He liked hugging me. Most times, he spent more than forty seconds holding me tight. He always believed I enjoyed it, too. I learnt most of my skills from him. Forty seconds was more than enough to take everything he has. If it was possible to pull off his cloths without him knowing, I'd have done it. I could have reported him for abuse, but I didn't. Who will anyway? One hug was fetching me ten dollars at least. I wondered how much I would get if I had slept with him.

Ramsey was a notorious armed robber when I met him. He had every weapon you can think of, still he wasn't as rich as I was. We fell in love and became a team. He discarded all his tools when he realized there was a better way to steal without violence. His hacking skills pushed our theft to another level. After five months of teaming up, we bought two cars each. When he found out all the money in Mr Samson's account wasn't more than four thousand dollars, he told me to forget the mission. "It isn't worth it," he said. I didn't listen. I believed it was easy, and four thousand dollars will do something at least in our lives.

Mr Samson boarded a bus that day and I made sure I entered the same bus. There was a sticker where I sat that reads:

Everyday is for the thief, but one day is for the owner.

I should have taken that as a clue to abort the mission, but Mr Samson was right in front of me and I could see his ATM card in his pocket. All I had to do was hit him or create a distraction to do what I needed to do. The opportunity finally presented itself when a man from behind screamed.

"Where is my box? Stop the goddam bus, driver! Nobody is leaving until I find it."

The man was dressed in a suit. He was already on phone with the police. He was sweating profusely and I could tell the box contained something very important. The driver stopped the bus and everywhere got disorganized. Some were screaming at the driver for stopping, and some were trying to talk to the man in suit. I had already preyed on that opportunity. Mr Samson was too focused on the man making calls. He stood up and went straight to him.

"What did the police say?" he said. "Anybody leaving or complaining will be a suspect."

He dipped his hands into his pocket looking for something. He brought out his phone and checked his pocket again. This time, his jaw was opened. He looked straight towards my direction and I had no choice than to run. Two other people followed suit and I could swear I saw a small box in the hands of one of them as they ran past me. I'd never had any reason to run; I was poor at it. I haven't even counted ten steps before I was caught. His ATM card was found in my pocket and I was accused for knowing the other two criminals. The police arrived at the right moment and I was arrested. I later found out the box contained two hundred thousand dollars. I knew I was done. The only way to prove my innocence was to reveal everything about me. Where I live, what I do and who I am. If I allow the police to take a deep investigation into me, some of my previous atrocities would be known, if not all.

I was lost on what to do. One thing was sure; either way, I'll end up in jail.