THIEF [S.M.]

fourteen

A-r-l-o N-i-x-o-n

I typed into the Google search on my laptop. I needed to find more information on who he really was. If this was becoming an obsession, at least it was for an appropriate reason. At least, I think it's appropriate.

Tongue planted between chapped lips, I squinted at the bright white screen, impatiently waiting for the page to load. I held my breath unconsciously, unprepared for what I may or may not find in a matter of seconds.

Red shades of sunlight bled through sheer curtains, carpeting the jaded planks beneath me and spilling across the ceiling, silhouettes of depressed buildings shadowing the thin brick walls of my home. Morbid intuition thickened the atmosphere, claustrophobia settling in my bones as my brain rejected the feeling. Chilled flesh blanketed by vexatious clothing remained frigid, chills arising on my exposed arms and face. I couldn't quite gather enough oxygen to satisfy my heavy lungs, as pressure sat inert on my chest and my fingertips danced across the touchpad.

The first link to volunteer belonged to the New York Police Department. A criminal record perhaps? Interesting.

Excitement thumped in my heart, though something made me hesitate before I clicked on the website. Would I regret this? I couldn't regret this. Too late to think about it.

My thoughts are disturbed as my loud neighbors crank up their music. They're a middle aged couple who often come home late at night laughing loud and inebriated, and who's hard rock music has become habit to fall asleep to. However, when they don't have their music turned to the most boisterous setting, they're fighting. Needless to say, they're crackheads. They don't have to tell you for you to be aware of it.

I rub my temples, irritated. It always stresses me out when I hear their music start up, and now is not the time for distractions.

"My god..." I muttered, gathering my laptop and moving to the bedroom, acquiring a little more peace and quiet.

I slid my feet beneath the tangled mess of ivory sheets, tugging a blanket over me as I continued on my voyage through the internet.

It was an article from four years ago, tagged along with an unsightly mugshot. Scabbing sores lined his mouth, his fervent ebon eyes staring straight into the camera, although his disoriented expression proved he wasn't completely present. His sunken cheeks and wrinkled skin below his eyes made him look far too many years older than he actually was. He still looked similar to this today, although the sores had vanished and the wrinkles had subdued yet his obvious skinniness had remained the same.

Arlo Nixon. Wanted for possession of illegal drugs and stealing. He was brought in two weeks after a warrant for his arrest was filed, apparently he was caught in a drug exchange. Crystal meth, to be exact. As well as that, he apparently stole money from his mother and sister. When he was finally arrested, found passed out in front of a bar, he was held in federal prison for two years, and then released early for good behavior.

So he has a criminal record. He's not perfect.

I have to tell Venus. If I wait until later, when their relationship has developed, it might break her heart. I am not trying to break her heart, just avert from him. Undoubtedly, I have to tell her. Now or never.

Although it's nearing eleven o'clock, I couldn't wait until daylight to transfer this new information.

-

"What, Shawn?" she asked, crossing her arms as she leaned against the wall, cocking her head curiously.

"Did I wake you up?" I fanatically questioned.

A slight smirk emerged on her face, disturbed by a microscopic shake of her head. I sighed, relieved.

"Why did you need me?" She fought to erase the grin playing at her lips, but to no avail. She pressed her palm against her mouth, masking her peeking teeth.

I blanked for a moment, standing beneath the flickering lights, moths fluttering in swarms shortly above me. Sirens wailed nearby, not at all surprising me. Thunder cracked and lighting struck as fresh rain began to trickle from the sky. An icy breeze whirled through the thin hallway, it's sharp kiss making excruciating contact with my skin and hers as her hair disheveled and her cheeks reddened.

"It's about Arlo." my voice was weak, and my eyes were timid as I didn't want to look into hers; I didn't want to hurt her any more than I already had.

She scoffed."I don't want to go through this again." Venus took a hasty turn towards the door, hand reaching for the door knob, though I lunged forward and grasped it before she could.

"No, please listen to me." I demanded, my face merely inches from hers. She quickly stepped back, becoming evidently panicked.

I relieved my strained stance and inhaled slowly. "H-he has a criminal record." I mumbled, averting my gaze to the staircase. Judging by the scrunched up, angry look on her face I could tell this was news to her.

"What?"

"Four years ago he was arrested for drugs and stealing."

Her jaw dropped. A quiet whiff of air escaped from the back of her throat, as her eyes became glassy. "W-why, why would you tell me this?" her voice broke, her breath quickening.

"Oh no, Venus, don't cry!" I said, naturally placing my hands on either of her shoulders, only for them to be knocked off by herself.

She groaned, angry, pushing past me and into her apartment. I didn't fight her this time.

What have I done...