The Anti-Hero

I'm Not A Thief

I wouldn't say I was a thief, exactly. I'm just really good at... acquiring things.

Okay, so maybe a few of those things aren't mine.

Fine, a fair bit of them.

Okay, most of them. So what? You gotta do what you gotta do.

Hey, it could be worse. I could be an assassin or something.

Maybe I am.

Just kidding. Obviously.

My name is Ivelle Lawson. I would say nice to meet you, but you're reading this. I have no idea who you are. Do I want to know? Maybe you should think about that for a second. Time for some existential crisis, I believe.

Anyway. You've probably worked out that I'm a thief. Although I prefer the term "professional borrower". But each to his own. Or her own. So maybe you shouldn't be reading this. I mean, who wants to get involved with a thief?

Or we could pretend this isn't real. (This probably isn't the time to wave my arms about and go "This is all an illusion...")

Yes, let's do that. This is all fictional. Any resemblance to a real life figure is purely coincidental and all that. I'm just a character. A creation of words. Hurray. Exciting. Never done this before.

As a fictional character, I'm probably supposed to explain what I look like. I've got light brown hair and normal brown eyes. Slim, average height. And...that's about it, really.

Now that the description is over and done with, I need to get on with my 100% fictional story. Or you'll stop reading, which is fine with me, but I guess it wouldn't be fine with a fictional character. So it's not fine with me. Since I'm fictional. Cough cough. But the problem with being fictional is that I'm not a hero. I'm a criminal, for goodness' sake. Most books I've read, the characters are good people (apart from the villain). I wouldn't say I was a good person. So I guess that makes me the villain.

Oh well. It is what it is.

Anyway. Story.

I think I'm supposed to talk about my life. I don't know. Like I said, never done this before. But there's a first time for everything. Let's start at the...well, the start. September 4th. I was in my room. Reading. I think it was Harry Potter and the Goblet Of Fire, but I'm not sure. It might have been the Prisoner of Azkaban, or maybe the Half-Blood Prince. But I'm getting sidetracked. So, there I was, reading my book, whichever one it happened to be, and in walks Madelyn Casey. Who is Madelyn Casey, I hear you ask. Except I don't actually hear you because you're reading this, and I'm nowhere near you (I think). Anyway. Who is Madelyn Casey?

Maddy is, quite literally, my partner in crime. Black hair, blue eyes, super-smart, very good aim when it comes to throwing things (usually books. At me.), and my only friend. She's brilliant most of the time, and the few times she isn't are the few times I happen to be brilliant. Her only problem is that she sticks to the rules. Not exactly, since, you know, she's also a thief (or professional borrower), but she does exactly what Milton tells us to do. Bo-ring. Milton's instructions, not Maddy. Although she can be a bit boring sometimes. Don't tell her I said that. (I mean, you can't because we're fictional, remember?)

Where was I? And I swear, if you reply "In your bedroom", I'll come and burgle your house.

Kidding.

Oh yeah. Maddy walked in, and as per usual, did not say "Hello, Ivelle!". Nor did she say, "And how are you doing this fine morning?". She didn't even ask, "And which book are you so engrossed in today, my dear friend?"

Nope. She picks a book up, and throws it at my face. Typical Maddy.

Okay, she may have shouted my name more than a few times. And I may have ignored her.

But I was reading! The number one rule is not to disturb me while I'm reading. Actually, that's not the number one rule. But you'll find out the real number one rule later. Because Milton will appear later. And Milton and the number one rule are a package deal. You can't have one without the other.

After recovering from my catastrophic injury, I put my book down and scowled at Maddy. "What?"

"Your Uncle Milton called."

"Shocker."

"He says he's got something for us to do."

"Full of surprises, he is."

"Elle!"

"Maddy!" I mimic.

"I'm trying to have a serious conversation with you!"

"And I'm trying to subtly avoid it!"

"Ivelle Elizabeth Katherine Lawson!"

I hate it when she uses my full name. I rolled on to my back and stared up at the ceiling. "Okay, okay, what does he want us to do this time?"

"To be honest, it's nothing as big as usual."

"That's nice," I said impatiently. "So what is it?"

"It is a bit strange, though."

"Okay..."

"Well, actually, very strange."

"Madelyn Rebecca Casey! Tell me!" The power of the middle name.

"He wants us to go to London. With him."

"What? Why?"

"He's got jobs for us there."

"Whoopee," I said sarcastically.

Maddy grinned suddenly and gave me a shove. "You know you want to go."

The annoying thing was, she was right. Being a criminal was exciting. It was risky and unpredictable, and I loved it. Taking risks was fun. It was my hobby. Among other things. But the danger was just so exhilarating, and it made you feel so alert, so ready, so alive. Being a normal fifteen year old wasn't enough. It was boring.

Being a thief was what I was made to be.

———

There you go, my readers. The first part. Numero uno. And I can't remember what number one is in any other language so we'll just stick with that.

Anyway. Question Of The Chapter: Black jeans or blue jeans?

Personally, I'd say black. But yeah.

Enjoy the first chapter! And gimme some feedback! Thanks for reading. :)

-H