The Little Mexican Thief

Waldo R.

October 27, 2011

English 9- Period 4

Autobiographical Narrative Third Draft

                                                                   The Little Mexican Thief

I used to be a master thief! When I was younger, I would steal things because it made me feel good. I knew stealing was wrong, but I didn’t care. According to my aunts and uncles, my mom taught me to steal.    

When I six or seven, I walked into a liquor store near the apartments I was living in.  When I walked in the door, I looked up and saw the Asian clerk was not paying attention to me even though I was the only person in the store.  I thought to myself, “This guy is stupid.  I am going to steal something.”  As I wandered around the store, I saw a box of multicolored lighters on the store.  When the clerk looked away, I reached up to the counter, snatched a handful of plastic lighters, and put them in my pocket. Then, I walked a few blocks away to my older brother’s hang out place to show our friends and burn paper.  I never never thought about getting caught.   

A few weeks later, my younger brother and I were walking out of a house on a busy street when I began to worry. I was holding kitchen knife.  I have always loved sharp things.  We had just entered a house without permission.  I had filled the pockets of my baggy jeans with sharp items.  Carlos who is a year younger than I am held toys in his arms and anywhere else where they would not be seen.  Even though, I had checked to make sure no one was walking by, I suddenly heard a car.  I thought to myself, “Oh shit!”  I began to understand that I could get in trouble.  

Years later, I was sitting in my sixth grade classroom at Discovery Charter in Chula Vista when I was tempted again.  As we were dismissed to lunch, I saw a girl putting away these eraser things that looked like food.  I now that they were Japanese erasers.  They were made of bright colored eraser material that was shaped to look like food and they could be taken apart like a sandwich or cake.  After she left to lunch, I walked back to our home classroom and looked for her backpack.  I took a whole bag from her backpack and put them into mine.  After school, I began to feel bad and didn’t want them anymore, so I gave them to my friend.  I never told the girl that I stole from her.    

Looking back now, I feel bad, but I am proud of my ability to be sneaky when necessary.   When I was little, I felt like I was just getting free things by stealing. But after I saw a person’s reaction, I felt bad and thought that I would hate it if that happened to me.  I realized that when someone steals it makes the victim sad.  I no longer steal except when playing video games, such as The Elder Scrolls 4 & 5, Fallout 3, and New Vegas.