I Am Not A Perfect Person

Posted by p2p Friday, October 29, 2010

   Some years ago, being fifteen years old and born in a poor family, I had to work and study at the same time for the sake of my family's survival. My father was not in this world since I was three. Many people said I lacked parental love but I had no idea what was it. On the other hand, my mother was working as a janitor in the school I studied in. Besides me, she was the only person who provided an income for the family, even though the amount was minimal. She was the person who often gave me advices and how to be a better person. I had five siblings who were all younger than me.

   My school life was better than this. I was in the best class, my exam grades were excellent, my co-curricular activities excelled too and the best part was, I did not have many friends. Many people called me an introvert, despite of what they said, I would rather be alone and not be in a crowd. However, I did have a good friend and he was my only friend. His name was Tom.

  Tom was the only person who liked to talk to me. He was my childhood friend since I was in kindergarten. He was also the only person who could challenge my top position in class and perhaps that was why everyone considered him a geek, a person who only loved to study and did not socialize much. Indeed , what they thought was true because he would carry a big book with him everyday and he would not talk much.

  Now to the other part of my life which was unknown to everybody. My part-time job was unique as compared to other people. I was not a cashier, a promoter, a janitor, nor was I a food seller. My job was to steal. I liked the job a lot because it was adventurous and the sum of money which I got was much bigger than many people's job. Everyday, I would sneak out of my house and enter my victim's house at about three o'clock in the morning. As silent as I could, I would take away all their valuable items and I kept them as my own.
  There was a day when I was chased by people because I had accidentally awaken them from their slumber after stealing a diamond ring. I ran around the alleys and made a confusing trip back to my house and immediately pretended to sleep. The next morning, I went to school being extremely fatigued. Tom asked me what happened the night before, but I did not answer.

  Tom found out that I had a diamond ring in my bag. As matter of fact, it was his mother's ring and he knew I was the thief who intruded his house the night before. He shouted at me and advised me to stop my actions before things got worse. I pushed him off and replied him with some vulgarities, just to shut him off from my life. Perhaps there was some ego deep within me which made me thought perfection was always in me. I was complacent.

  One night, I was too careless and I was trapped by the people. They were waiting for me patiently. Then,  I was caught red-handed and they sent me to the police. I regretted my actions but it was too late. My mother was crying at that moment, looking at how I was handcuffed by the police. Tom was right. I was a fool for not listening to his words. He was my friend, what he wanted was to help me! And yet, I shut him off with such rude words. Tears were rolling down my cheeks as I stepped into the police car. I lost a friend. More importantly, I am not perfect after all.


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