An original writing piece based on a poem studied in class called 'stealing' however could be used for a normal piece of original writing.

Essay by so-not-evilHigh School, 10th gradeB+, March 2009

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Original writing.

Today changed my life. You know you get those moments where you just think, "Jesus…what's next?" well I got one. I was just doing what I daily 'shop' I guess you could call it. And the co-op had this new type of washing up liquid. So I picked one up and put it into my basket of stuff that I was going to 'buy'. Obviously I wasn't going to pay for these, this was just a decoy. A soon as I got near to the till I would put the basket on the floor and pat all of my pockets as if I was searching for my [non-existent] purse then have a shuffle around my bag and look a bit embarrassed, put the basket on the floor and walk out. Its just one of my many tricks. Of course my bag and pockets and bag didn't have my purse in them because they were stuffed full of all kinds of necessities and more.

This was just any other day to me though. I have been doing this in shops all around the UK. Ever since I was just a little big brown eyes who watched her brother in awe from hilltops and distances as he showed me just how to steal things. Mostly stuff he didn't need. Like a snowman for instance. I can remember, at the age or around seven, being woken up in the middle of the night and given my warm duffle coat to put around my all-in-one pyjamas.then, doing as I was instructed, I got my blue plastic sled from the garden and followed him into the dark. We didn't say much but I remember it all so clearly. I can even smell the clean frost on the grass. But my brother was a big influence on me. my idol. I wanted to live like him. No rules. He had whatever the hell he wanted. One time he took me into some old grey building, not sure what or where it was, but I can remember being sat on one of those hard plastic chairs like the ones they have in schools. Then I sat for what seemed like hours but I guess 15 minutes probably felt like hours to a young kid with nothing to do. Then I looked around and saw my brothers' head poking round the corner to where I was sitting. "Anyone there?" he whispered.

Being the little obedient little squirt I was I shook my blonde ringlets and watched as he walked round something bulky, and from his face obviously heavy, and covered with a white dust cloth. "Get your bag out" he instructed me and I took off my 'rainbow' backpack off and opened it up to him. He placed it in there next to my 'zippy' keying and the mini slinky I had all tangled up in there. Then he took the bag off me, zipped it up and took my hand and led me out. I didn't discover what it was until days later I saw this Shakespeare head in his room and put the puzzle pieces back together. But this boy today had something about him. His eyes were amazing to study. I was just simply putting a bottle of the washing up liquid into my inside pocket when I looked around to face this pale face, with tiny pink lips and the biggest brown eyes I've seen. Reminded me of someone I once knew.somone innocent. I could just see his little mind taking mental notes of what I was doing, how I was doing it. Just like me at that age. I put the bottle back on the shelf, my eyes still fixated on his and he tilted his tiny round head to the side. This made me flinch. I was looking so deep into his perfect little orbs of eyes that I didn't notice what he was doing. Then as I blinked a couple of times, getting my eyesight back I noticed his little hand reaching towards mine. I knew I should have changed when I was caught by a little child but I couldn't help taking what I felt I needed to bad. So I stole one last thing. The little boy with the big brown all knowing eyes and led him out of the shop and into a new start.