My Brother's Gameboy

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As a child the things that meant the most to me were shiny, colorful, and utterly unattainable. From a young age I was taught that taking what was not yours without asking was unbelievably wrong and would result in a never ending timeout. Fearing an eternity spent sat in a corner “thinking about what I had just done” I made an early habit of asking for things I wanted and forgetting about the things I could not have. Unfortunately this lifestyle could only last so long and so at only four years old the temptation became too much and I had convinced myself that the only solution was to take what was not given to me.
The year was 2001 and my older brother had recently been given a brand new GameBoy Advanced. This incredible technological toy immediately caught my attention with its intriguing semi-translucent casing and color screen. Joey had immediately fallen in love with the GameBoy and from the first time he got his hands on it refused to let it out of his sight. I had spent weeks patiently poised over his shoulder watching him “catch ‘em all” in Pokemon and wanted nothing more than to play the game myself. Taking a leap of faith I asked if I could have a turn to play. He graciously responded “ Sure, but not until I die.” Hearing this I became overjoyed and began readying myself for the best moment of my life. I sat waiting and hoping that he would die soon and that I would get my opportunity. Realizing quickly that this was going to take longer than I had anticipated I fetched my closest friend, Lucky the stuffed animal version of my favorite dalmatian from 101 dalmatians, and curled up for the long wait ahead.
Time passed and in what had seemed like hours, but more realistically was about ten minutes, my time had come. My br...

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...left it there. Stop staring at me!” I pushed the dog away and tried once more to relish in my victory. But the game no longer felt interesting and soon the feeling of guilt became too much. I knew what I had done and I knew I deserved to spend my life in time out for stealing. Settling on a less permanent punishment I went to return the game to my brother's room. To my dismay when I arrived he had returned and was ripping the blankets off his bed frantically in search of his beloved game. I quietly walked over holding out the game to him and mumbling my best apology. He snatched the game away checking to make sure I had not ruined it and then returned to playing. Like the boy in the game I wandered back to my room grabbing Lucky from under the bed and, settling down from the ups and down of my short life of crime, vowed to never again take what was not given to me.

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