Resisting Happiness

I am dangerous. I am always the dark and never the light. I crave the feeling of epinephrine surging inside me, awakening my inner stealth. As the sun goes down, I loom around the streets, searching and seeking for something to purloin, anything just to hawk in the ‘Deck’. The ‘Deck’ is where I vend the possessions that I stole from other people. I make good coinage there, but not enough for me to start over. It is enough, however, to live comfortably without the excess luxuries in life.

Enough about my day dreaming escapades, it is time for an exploit. I slowly ascend the uneven brick walls with my bare hands. Up, up and up I go, sometimes I’d slide down once or twice, no big deal, I still survived the climbing adventure. I reach the edge of a window and test if the locks are fastened, they are not. I inaudibly open the window, step inside and look around. Good. The coast is clear. Gradually, I wander from room to room, peeking inside, checking if the little ones and the adults are asleep. Everything is silent, now’s my chance to look around the perimeter, see if anything is worth retailing. I stumble upon the living room, it is dark in here and it is difficult to see where the valuables are. I press a palm on my right side; from there I walk as soundlessly as possible. I stop walking when I touch something cold and metallic. I look closely and pat the said object. The shape of the object is quadrangular, it is cold on my hands and it feels a bit dirty and dusty; this must be a frame! In the middle, I can feel the smooth and rough strokes of something hard, I smell my hands and the odour smells like paint; this is definitely a painting. The moonlight shines at some part of the room thru the parted curtains and so I drag the painting and use the moon’s light to take a better look at it. Aah, what a truly magnificent work of art; it is a painting of a lady posed with its naked physique baring to the world. God, this must have caused a fortune! Moreover, judging by the name of the artist signed at the lower right of the painting, it is a rare one at that too. Today must be my lucky day!

After I place the painting inside my run-down apartment, I head down town to celebrate my good fortune. Tomorrow I shall bring the painting to the Deck and there I shall get my money. While sauntering gleefully, a loud scream caught my attention. Where did that come from? Again, another shattering scream echoes from down the alley. Before I can muster anything, my feet are already pounding the ground, heading for the source of the wail. Screeching to a halt, I meet a large, bulky man hovering over a frail woman, her dress torn to shreds and blood oozing out from the corner of her mouth. I am a thief but it doesn’t mean I am not a gentleman. I grab a stone nearby and throw it at the assailant, it hit him at the back of his neck, but I bet he barely even feel it hit him hard. He turns around and gives me the finger.

“Step away from her.” I say, calmly.

“Fuck off.” He turns back around to assault the lady.

Assessing his height and weight, I might have a good chance of beating the crap out of this goon. I’m a good 5’9’’, tall, muscular and firm. I think I might have fun tonight.

“Hey buddy, leave the poor girl alone.” I attempt once more. I step towards him and tap his back.

“And I say fuck off!” he starts to launch himself at me but I dodge him easily. I punch his gut and kick his manhood. He crouches over and holds on to his precious jewel. That will teach him how to mess with me. I turn to look at the lady, she looks so fragile and helpless. Poor girl.

“Hey, it’s alright. You’re safe n—”

“Behind you!” she suddenly screams.

As I turn around the thug aim his head at my gut, I fell back, coughing and wheezing. That arsehole just knock the air out of me, in a bad way. I try to get up but he comes at me and starts punching, I hold up my arms in order to defend myself. I try my best to haul him off me but he was just too damn heavy. God, why the hell did I ever think that I could beat the crap out of this drunkard?