The Dream Heist (Incomplete)

Prometheus (90% Edited)

I was only 5 years old I believe, when my dad got in a car accident. Only a few more months after the car accident, my dad died from internal bleeding in his upper abdomen. I remember sitting in a chair next to my dad, hoping he'd wake up; but he never did.

I think that was the turning point for me. I was alone, like no one understood me, like the world betrayed me. I never really payed attention in class, or to any of the students. I just spent most of my time daydreaming of how things could have gone differently. I remember I would read a lot of books in my spare time, and I also loved crime shows and movies, it was like my get away. I always had the dream to become part of the FBI, or the Boston Police Department, but sadly that never became a reality.

I remember the day I made my first friend. I was 16 at the time, he was a odd kid, extroverted and outgoing. To say the least, we were opposites. we were fairly normal teenagers at the time. Playing video games and going to the diner to hang out.

One day though, we were in class, and he had a mental breakdown. The teacher told us that it had do to his anxiety disorder, and he had a nervous breakdown. You see, the night before he had received a letter explaining that his father died, after committing suicide in a bar. He wouldn't talk to anyone for at least two weeks after that, except to me. I was the only one he was comfortable talking to. He felt out casted, like he didn't belong in the world, and no one loved him, even his own father. But I was there for him, I was there to tell him how important he was, to tell him how much he meant to me. To me he was not a burden. He was a friend to me, and to him that was all he needed.

Then, we graduated, and I went to college for criminal justice and my friend stayed home to take care of his mom with a rare terminal cancer. I remember the day I graduated quite vividly, the smile on my moms face, one I haven't seen before. There is a face a mother will make when you graduate, a smile that you hadn't seen, because for once, after all the years of raising you and being there for you, she felt proud of you. That proudness, is the most amazing feeling, I felt I did something right for once.

All that was to change very soon when I applied for the BPD. I remember sitting in the living room with my mom, everything quiet. We were waiting to receive the confirmation letter. I remember it very well, I even remember what was playing on our old vintage TV. It was an ad for a Pet Rocks. What a waste of money I thought. I remember also feeling that adrenaline. It wasn't like the kind you get when going down a roller coaster or sky diving... No. It was like an excitement for me and my future.

Then I heard a knock on the door. It through me off guard and I stood up frantically. At first I didn't think of my acceptance letter, but then I saw the face of a mailman. I was so excited I don't recall even saying bye or thank you to the man, just shutting the door as I ripped the letters out of his hands. I had received several letters, but none were important except one. I quickly searched through them, looking for a letter from the BPD. That's when I saw it it, a big red envelope with BPD engraved into it.

My mom and I looked at each other, with gleem of hope in our eyes. I slowly ripped the envelope open. The letter seemed promising at first glance, but closer inspection proved otherwise. I felt a chill go down my spine as I realized that it wasn't an acceptance letter but a rejection letter. The more and more I read, the more pain I felt. I recall tears even falling from my face, and the most horrific stabbing pain in my chest. I practically dropped to my knees, water dripping down my face; I was dizzy, and nauseous, I couldn't see clearly.

My mom tried to calm me down, and brought me water. I tried to gather my thoughts and continued to read. The more I read the more I began hurt inside, filled with rage and sorrow. Then the breaking point.

"After a series of analysis and contemplation we have decided that you are not welcome to join the Boston Police Department force, do to possible accusations of your deceased father's past. Along with complications with previous mental disabilities, that may result into mental instability."