Kleptomania | Billie Eilish

One

Maddie

As I run my hand along with the arranged bags of chips, I get that anxious yet adrenaline rushed filled feeling again.

I get the same feeling every time I shoplift.

It's like when you come up for fresh air after a long swim underneath the ocean current. When your lungs fill with air, you feel relief. When I slide something into my pocket, that same relief of fresh air consumes me. All your anger and frustrations are washed away with that breath of air.

I hastily grab a bag of Takis and shove them into my jacket.

I continue down the aisle and turn the corner and run my hand along with the shelving again. It's quite a habit I have with shoplifting. One pack of Marlboros is now stashed into my sleeve.

I nervously take a quick look around my surroundings, and after years of doing this shit, I'm still anxious about getting caught again.

All clear.

I walk down a cramped, drafty hall to the bathroom. With flickering light panels and it seems to look like mold growing up the walls, with old wallpaper slowly crumbling off the wall beside it. There are three stalls, one being occupied.

I quickly shut the stall door behind me. I don't know exactly why I'm hiding out in the bathroom. I could just walk right out the door, I've done it hundreds of times. But this time, I'm panicking. I feel my thoughts start to scream at me for coming into an occupied bathroom for no reason at all. I easily contain myself however with a few deep breaths. I got this.

I flush the toilet, pretending I had used the bathroom, and exit the stall. As I'm washing my hands, the other girl comes out. She stands next to me while washing her hands. I look up at her through the mirror.
She's short, at least a couple of inches shorter than me. Her long, silver hair catches my eye. I've always wanted hair like that, but my mother was never too fond of me dying my hair. My brunette head is her favorite part about me as she always reminds me. Almost, guilt tripping me into never bleaching my beautiful head of hair.

The girl is pretty. Pretty made be an understatement frankly, she's stunning. She has unique style with baggy shorts, like basketball shorts that fall past her knees and an oversized t-shirt. Including like— a pound of chains around her neck. It's cool but never something I could ever pull off.

I grab a few paper towels and dry my hands.

"Cool shirt," I hear a voice behind me.

I turn around and look at the silver-haired girl. We lock eye contact, she has blue eyes. That's the first feature I notice. Then her lips, full, plump lips. And a small nose to portion it all out. And really, fucking good eyebrows, god, there is not one flaw on this woman's face.

"Thanks, you like the The Neighbourhood?" I finally reply after my moment of awe and suggest my band T-shirt.

"Who doesn't?" She chuckles lightly. "They're dope."

"And even cooler playing live," I say.

"I've always wanted to see them live," she sighs briefly while shaking her head.

I smile and nod at her then mess with my hair in the mirror a bit and adjust my jacket.

That's when I hear a hit to the floor and see the bag of Takis displayed on the bathroom floor.

Shit.

"Damn girl, you stealin'?" She asks.

"No, no it's not what it looks like," I say nervously as I pick up the chips.

"Don't worry about it, I gotchu'," she insists. "Who the fuck care if someone steals one bag of Takis out here? This place fuckin' blows."

I notice my cheeks getting hot from the embarks to of my shoplifting. But this girl doesn't seem to care. "You're on my page."

To avoid the humiliation of the obvious blush across my face, I walk towards the door away from her. Before I reach for the handle I add, "thanks for not snitching." She turns her head to me, her eyes meet mine again. And in an instant, my stomach flips upside down.

She shrugs, "no big deal, snitches get stitches." I chuckle at her response, smile once more, and leave the bathroom.

I don't think much of the encounter I've had. Shit like that happens all the time, I see a pretty girl or bump into her, get butterflies, then never see her again.

As I'm walking to the exit an employee approaches me.

"I need to check your jacket ma'am," a man with a blue polo t-shirt on stops me. A badge with the name Clark lies upon it.

God, I think, I could beat this boy up in a split-second.

The feeling of trepidation and anxiety quickly builds up inside of me, I'll need to make a run for it.

I turn my head around in alarm, hoping to get an idea. But instead, I see the girl standing behind me, with her large T-shirt and shorts. And again, her mesmerizing pale, blue eyes catch my own. I stare at her for a moment,

"see you around," I wink at her.

I look back at the man. Then run out of the store. He starts yelling.

"You have to pay for that! Hey!"

I run to my car and step on the gas. I look in my rearview mirror and see the blued eyed girl standing on the sidewalk, watching me drive off.