Benedict's Story | Chapter One

Benedict is a thief on the streets of Hausa. When attempting to steal from a man at a street fair, he unfortunatley ends up running for his life.

 

The narrow alleys of Hausa were littered with thieves. Or you could say bubblegum. The thieves of Hausa were like chewed bubblegum; you couldn’t go ten steps in Hausa without stepping on one of the buggers. Among one of the many infamous Husain thieves was a very special thief, who is the main character of our story. His name was Garther Benedict and this is his story:

 

 My name is Garther Benedict and I’m currently on trial for murder. So I’m here in my jail cell, waiting for an innocent verdict that I know I will get, even though I am guilty. I know I’m guilty, my uncle knows I’m guilty, and this other very important girl in my life knows I’m guilty too. But I think I’m getting ahead of myself, so I’ll start from the beginning.

 

 It all started with a fat man, the fat man in the middle of a street fair at Hausa. I was a thief, I stole pretty much everything. I wasn’t an idiot either. The fat man was an easy target, just standing there eating his corn dogs like there was no tomorrow.

 

 I crept into a small crowd, keeping watch on the fat man. The crowd was progressing to a juggler, meters from the fat man. If I didn’t make a move quick, I would lose the protection of the crowd. Snaking between a particularly tall girl and her twin, I arrived at the fat man’s backside. A leather wallet flopped from his pocket, and another hand. I removed my attention form the wallet to the other thief about to steal my steal.

 

 “Oh no, you don’t,” I exclaimed, nimbly removing the wallet from the thief’s hand. Un-fortunately the fat man tipped over from the loss of the wallets weight. He was very angry, and I was positive it wasn’t the wallet but the gun that fell forms his corndogs. Glancing around madly, I realized the other thief was long gone and I was left to be the only one to blame. To make matters worse the wallet was long gone too. “This is a good time for an exit,” I spoke my thoughts aloud, tearing down through the fair.

 

 A deafening cluster of sounds shot from behind me, literally. In my shocked mind, I slowly comprehended two things:

 

 One, the fat man was shooting at me.

 

 And two, he was a very fast fat man.

 

 Silently I cursed myself, of all the fat men in the world; I try to steal from one that could actually win the Olympics. He was gaining on me fast, which meant a few things:

 

 One, I could possibly get shot.

 

 Two, I could die.

 

 Three, he might have some mercy and let me go.

 

 Four, I could get shot.

 

 The man was practically behind me, so I did the only thing I could think of in a situation such as this one. I stopped. Yes, I stopped, right in the middle of my tracks. Hoping the momentum would keep him going forward and me from being caught. It did, but he recovered fast. I rushed into a random dark alley praying for a wall to climb.

 

 Fortunately, the alley was dark. Really dark and I couldn’t see a thing. Looking back I guess there was a piece of paper or something that I tripped on. I think I cursed the people of Hausa for their littering ways at that moment. I’m also not sure what had happened next because I passed out from the fall.

Author's Note

Well this story is kind of a sequel for my Hamilton Story except in Benedict's view. This is also a trial copy. I'm still trying to decide if I should keep it the way it is and write in first person perspective or third person. Please review and tell me what you think I should do.