A fishy smell assaults my nose as I walk down the street. It's not half bad once you get used to it. I have walked this same way many times in the past, it's one of the few markets in the poorer half of the town. You often see the same piece of food on sale for weeks on end, but the price never seems to fall, even as it slowly rots into a lump of mold. However, people still buy it, but that's not why I am here today. Some old fossil just bought a house around here and started a bakery, so all the people like me are setting a target on his back. Places like his won't be that secure since it just opened, so I need to steal some food from him.
I look into the window of the store "This place is way to nice to be here, i wonder how much time he spent working to fix this place up, i remember a few months ago this place had a rat problem that probably took most of time to get rid of, those dam thing wont take a hint, almost like drunk Howard on the corner, no one is going to hand you coin you drunk" i thought as i walked into the store.
A foreign smell hits my nose, its the smell of fresh food, bread and pastries inside of a glass case, some of the shoppers look out of place in here, they all look a bit like rotting corpses slowly walking towards the counter, i notice an old lady bringing a thatch basket out that is filled with slightly stale bread, that's my target for today, one small loaf can feed me for at lest a week if i eat like normal.
I subtly shuffle over to the basket using the customers as cover, and as I reach the basket, I hear a man shout, "You filthy rat, get away from there."
I turn and I see that old sack of bones looking right at me as he starts to jump off the countertop. I turn back around and start to grab as many loaves as I can. I grab four loaves before the man finally gets over the counter with a loud groan and a few cracks and pops.
I make a run for it out of the store, with the old coot on my tail, while shouting at his wife to look after the store. As I run out, the fish smell it's my nose and momentarily snaps me back to my senses, almost forcing me to a halt, I grab a loaf and chuck it at a cluster of homeless kids, and like moths to a flame, they all jump on the loaf, tearing apart each other, their former peace forgotten.
The old coot chases me with a hint of disgust at what i just made happen with a simple piece of bread, i only caught that look for a moment as i turn my head to look at him so that i could throw one at him, and with a soft tap the bread hits the old coot, and he gets swarmed by the cluster of kids, forcing him to a halt.
I keep running, as I pass drunk Howard, who was begging for change, I place a loaf of bread and point to the old coot. My relationship with Howard is close to that of business partners, or at least that's what he called us while talking in the pub. I would always give him a piece of what I stole, and he would fight the people chasing me. It was a very simple transaction, it's also how he got money to drink, because he would sell half of the food to the richest person he could find in the slums.
Like clockwork, Howard starts to run at the old coot who was still shaking kids off, and at the sight of Howard, the old coot winds up his leg and makes contact on Howard's genitals, and follows an audible pop and mass screech from Howard.
I stop in my tracks and turn to see what happened, and almost throw up from the previous actions, "such barbaric fighting, all because of some stale bread, that's more pathetic than the crazy clown at 5th street," I think before I turn the corner into a back alley.
"This alley is almost like a second home to me. I run down this place after each time I steal. I normally stash what I stole in a bin before running to the other side of the alley, as the police station is on the other side and they will protect me from any chasers." I let my face form into a cocky grin.
I go to toss the bread into a small black bin that is propped open by a small brick, but the next thing I see is everything upside down. As I stand up, I am pinned down, and cold metal is wrapped around my cuffs, and a faintly familiar voice speaks.
"Nice try, kid, but you should have waited a few more days. We got tipped off about your plan this time," a slightly deep-voiced man spoke.
I looked at the man, who was a police officer and was normally the person who would help me when I got to the station. It seemed like they were trying to catch me in the act of stealing so they could deal with me and get them to stop bothering them every other week.
As I let out a painful groan, the old coot runs around the corner and stops before walking up to me and crouching down and opens his mouth, "You little sewer rat are going to get what you deserve now."
The officer gets off my back, and the old coot stands straight up and delivers a kick to my side, and sends me rolling into a wall when the old coot starts to deliver an uncountable amount of blows to me as he sings profanities like a sailor. He only seems to stop once I stop reacting to the blows.
My vision turns darker and darker, as blood remains on my tongue, my eyes fall shut, and I feel myself being lifted up and moved. I just hope that place is far away from that old coot.