Sweat trickled down my neck. Regardless of how many times I have performed this, I would still get anxious. My target shops around the marketplace freely, unaware that there is someone on their trail, waiting for the right opportunity to strike. I wish I didn’t have to resort to such ways to feed myself, however, with a useless drunk father, I can only depend on myself. Thankfully my mother is no longer in this world to witness such an act, which would definitely make her lecture me for hours on my knees. Being stuck with a useless father is already bad, but of course, the heavens have it out for me because I also had to be born powerless.

In this world, everyone develops powers when they reach the age of ten. Powers are what defines this world’s rank. The more powerful one is, the higher your rank. Powers vary from mental manipulation, healing powers, nature manipulation, being able to see the future, increase in strength and many more. My mother had the power to control plants. Growing up, we had to grow our own produce because money was scarce. Life was better at the time. We could sell what we grew at the marketplace and we were able to save up some money that was, until my father used it all for gambling. The only thing my father is useful for is manual work, in which he can use his strength power.

My mother died when I was nine years old, just before powers are supposed to develop. I always wanted to inherit her powers, so that a part of her could live on in me. Except I didn’t inherit her powers or any powers. People thought that I was still in shock because of my mother’s death, because that was the only explanation that they could come up with. After many months had passed, people stopped looking at me with pity and started looking at me with disgust. My friend’s parents didn’t want me near their children in case what I had could pass on to them. Every time I went to town, I could hear them whisper.

“She’s eleven already and she still has no powers.”

“How is that possible? I hope she’s not carrying a virus”

“I’m not surprised. With that family of hers, how could she not be a freak?”

The harsh words would be the reason I would cry in bed, wondering if I really was as weird as people perceived me to be. I knew crying out to them would do nothing but add fire to the fuel. They would just find more content to gossip about. I was all by myself. My mother died, my father would be out gambling, and I would be at home, hiding from the menacing glares. Since we live in a town where people will get blacklisted if they do not fit into their standards, business started to fail. We could no longer sell our produce and father was laid off for having a “freak” as a daughter, which caused him to go down the barrel even more. I knew life was going to be hard from them on, so I started to brainstorm new ways that could feed this family and keep us afloat. Therefore, I had to learn the art of pickpocketing. I couldn’t afford starting out in the world where if caught, it would just give the people more to talk about, so I had to find an easy target whose attention was always elsewhere, most commonly on the bottle. At least he was useful for one thing. It took me weeks until I was finally able to reach into my father’s pocket and take the piece of paper that I had put in there without him noticing. From there on, I started practicing in more items, until finally, I felt that I was ready to go out into the world.

Pulling myself out of my memory lane trance, I regain my focus and continue to carefully follow the person who would be my next pick pocking victim. This person had a long brown cloak which covered its face, but by its figure, I could tell that it was a man. I have been following him for almost an hour, which I normally don’t, however, his case is special. When I passed by him on the streets, there was a brief moment in which his cloak had opened by the strong gush of wind that had passed and secure on his waist, was a golden pocket watch. I had seen multiple of those before, however, this one felt different. It was as if there was a force pulling me towards it. This has to be the longest it has taken me to retrieve an item, and the more time went by, the more anxious I became.

When an hour had passed, I started to wonder if it was really worth spending all this time trailing this guy and I could’ve gotten other items that would put food on the table for tonight’s dinner. Jut as I’m about to give hope, the man stops in front of the water fountain on the plaza. He seems to be looking at the statue of Queen Marigold, the former queen of the Raedorah Kingdom. My mother told me that she was the fairest queen of all times. When the Queen was still alive, poverty wasn’t as bad as it is now. After her death, the ruthless, greedy and hungry for power King James raised the taxes on the people who lived in the poverty, knowing they would have no means to pay and too afraid to protest. King James is known for always wanting to increase his army and conquering land, and of course, making sure his only heir, Prince Rafael, married a daughter of the neighboring Kingdoms. Thus, taking care of his people is not on his priority list right now.

Okay. I should focus more on the person who will be bringing food to the table hopefully for the next week. I take a look at my surroundings and I see a group of children who were playing around get closer to the man. I take this opportunity to get closer to him and make sure my timing is right. Just as the kids pass by and bump in to the man, I swiftly reach for the golden watch and take it. Thankfully the man hadn’t closed his cloak, so it made the stealing a lot easier. As soon as I grab it, I walk away, blending in with the crowd.

I walk towards an abandoned side of town, to the old ruins. Every time I come here, I’m still amazed by the structures. You can see the white marble glisten against the burning sunset. I wish I could’ve seen what the building looked like when they were still whole. I found this place five years ago when a twelve-year-old me was running away from bullies who were keen on torturing the freak. No one comes here, they all say it’s haunted by the spirits of the past Kings and Queens, however, I find this place soothing. I always come here when I need to get away from the cruel reality of my life.

Making sure I had a good grip of the watch, I climb the tree that is near a cliff that overlooks the entire town. The orange sunset covers the town, making the buildings blend in with them. I wish I had found this place when my mother was still alive. I know she would’ve loved this place. I don’t mind being the only one here, but I wish I could share this view with someone and have them say that despite the town not being glamorous, with this sunset, it looked like a beautiful jewel.

“You know, for a town in bad shape, it doesn’t look that bad from up here.”

The unexpected voice startles me, making me jump and lose my balance in the process. I let out a scream just as my head is about to crack open on the ground. I close my eyes, bracing myself for impact, but it never comes. I open my eyes to find a man, with a brown cloak, staring at me with amused eyes. It takes me a moment to understand the situation and then it hits me. Crap. I’m so screwed.