To steal or not to steal (A Fiction)
The pen wasn’t worth anything, but Maddie pocketed it anyway. Her hand fiddled with the pen in her pocket. She accidentally released the spring controlling the ejection of the nib. It stabbed at her left thigh. She was incredulous that it could puncture the cloth of her pocket. She would have to remember to take a look at it after she undressed at home.
She had Kleptomania, which was simply known as the addiction to stealing. She loved the adrenalin rush. Just one more time and she would quit. She always told herself that. Her breath quickened. She loved it. She took deep breaths. Yet she was still gasping for more air. She felt giddy. Was it exhilaration? She was so excited she felt like passing out. No, she can’t. She has to leave this place before getting caught. She felt so heavy. What was wrong with her feet? They felt like lead. Her left thigh hurt. What was so devastating with a pin prick? She could hardly move. Her eyes were so sleepy. She yawned. She struggled to focus. Just a few more steps and she would be out of the rich man’s house. She struggled. She closed her eyes to rest for a second.
When she came to, she was in a strange place. A man with a red face and two horns peered at her intently.
“Where am I?” Maddie asked.
“You’re in Hell”
“What has happened? Why have I died?”
“You stole a pen which contained poison and you accidentally pricked your thigh with it. The poison killed you and now you’re in Hell”.
Maddie cried out in fear. “I don’t deserve Hell. I didn’t mean to steal all those things. I only took them for the fun of it.”
“Tell that to God if you ever get the chance.”
“Let me out of here! I’ll do anything for you!”
“Really? What can you do for me?”
“I can steal anything for you.”
“Can you steal Heaven for me?”
“I can’t do that!”
“So you’re stuck here with me forever.”
Maddie cried and lamented her fate. The fate of a Kleptomaniac.
First Line Friday writing prompt.