EDIT: I can't post the whole story up regularly for now. I guess there are many editing to do. So it'll be up when its complete. Stay tune =)

*plain bored!*

I've read loads of love stories today. So i was like wondering, maybe i can try penning one myself? Haha, and so i did. and here's a sentence that gives a brief outlook of what my story will be about. "two lovers. two thieves. and they stole each other's hearts"

I've stolen your heart

Introduction

"Come back you good-for-nothing!" the shop auntie screamed as I robbed her of her hand bag from behind. I laughed at her folly. Would I even go back to her knowing that I'll be so darn screwed by the authorities?

I ran into a pretty dark corner. It's been quite a while since I ran such a long distance. Nevertheless, I praised myself for making this such a success. The hand bag was really heavy, probably loaded with cash and jewellery. I pried open the loot with a great sense of triumph.

I am Soichiro Arima. You've guessed it, I'm a thief , a liar, an occasional murderer and an outrageous braggart whenever the situation calls for it. I do not care if I'm devoid of any hint of honour. For I love the thrills, the pleasure I get whenever adrenaline surges through my blood, and most of all, the money I get to splurge on what I desired.

Perhaps you are wondering, what led me into this line of profession? Would any sane man do such stuff for a living? Wouldn't it be wiser if I were to hide behind some computer and do my work? It all started when I was a merely a kid

"Here take this shit money!" my damned father yelled when he threw the dirty coins at my mother. She was tugging his leg, refusing to let go, for he'll be leaving with his mistress and kids to some other place. He had come to our tiny house and took all of my mother's money. He left me battered when I gave my weak resistance.

'Not until you return me all my money!' she screamed, yet weeping at the same time. There I was, recovering from the push, and watching all this happening. All this action.. which had such a great impact of me that it became recurring nightmares. I hate him, the man who left my mother to fend for herself when she's pregnant with me. Why must you come back to make things so miserable for my mother and I?

Can you imagine what she went through? She had to undergo such a great heart break and losing all her hard earned money to this bastard whom I will never address as my father till the very end of time.

She tried her best to be as strong as she can be. She failed to take the set back well. The very morning I woke up, I found her lying dead in her room, with both of her wrists slitted. She left a note on the table, "I am sorry."

She left me all alone. I was only seven then. I had no other relatives. The person I was closest to, was my mum. And there she went, into the heavens, and get to savour every single minute of good life up there.

But does the word "sorry" act as food whenever I'm hungry? Or does it quench my thirst? Does it act as a companion whenever I'm lonely? Most of all, do you think "sorry" can make up for what I went through for my child hood?

Other kids get to go to school, get some handy dandy degree and settle down with a promising future. What about me? I have got no idea whether is it my fortune or my misfortune when a gang of thieves took me in..

To be continued.. tomorrow i hope.