Stealing - Original Writing

Stealing - Original Writing

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Stealing - Original Writing

A few questions? Hahaha, what do you take me for, a fool? Believe me
sir I've sat in this chair many times before and I certainly know that
this is going to take a lot longer then just a few questions! JESUS,
you people! You bang me up in a dark, cold, emulsioned box and expect
me to calm down! Do you have any idea how hard it is to sleep on those
wooden benches; you pigs really know how to treat your guests.

My mum and dad? Don't patronise me! You lot have my files and know
full well were they are, buried under tons of soil in cheap wooden
boxes. Oh, so you do know the story huh? It seems everyone knows about
my stuff. Let me refresh your memory…I was a mere ten years old, had
everything a kid could want. My mum and dad took me on holiday. We
used to play at the park, build sandcastles at the beach and snowmen
in the snow, dad used to take me to work with him… those were the
days, my rents were the best. But you see, people were jealous of what
we had. Jealously is a powerful feeling, it can make or break a man.
All my happiness was ripped from my heart in a couple of hours. A few
drunks who were walking back from the local pub, threw a fag butt into
our letterbox and woosh! Up went the house in flames, everything I had
lost. Fortunately or unfortunately, which ever way you want to look at
it, I was on a camping trip with the scouts, with that perv Mr Heinz.
I was called home the next morning to find I was alone, everyone was a
stranger, all memories were lost in the blaze, no pictures, nothing.

Yeah, my dad and I used to build snowmen, why are you so interested in
that anyway… Oh I see now, you think I stole that snowman because of
my dad! You've been chatting to that shrink of mine aint ya? He talks

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a load of crap, but you know what, maybe this time you lot are right,
I was jealous. Yesterday on my way back to the hostel I passed
hundreds off houses with decorations at the windows, Christmas trees
and snowmen in the front yard. Family celebrations, all sat round
their dinner tables, yeah that pissed me off! That used to be me. As I
continued to walk along the street I could feel my blood begin to
boil, and then I saw him, 'he was magnificent, a tall white mute
beneath the cold winter moon. I wanted him.' I was angry and annoyed
at the world! I knew that if I took him, I would ruin some kid's
Christmas, 'the thrill was knowing that they would cry in the
morning!' Just like I did. 'Life's tough,' you got to learn that to
survive. Excuse me? Are you calling me selfish? Nah, I was just
teaching the kids a lesson in life.

I was passed from relative to relative, none of them able to cope with
my mood swings, I ended up having to see a shrink three times a week
and I went on countless anger management courses. Eventually I was put
in care; 'orphan boy' was my nick name at school. In the playground I
used to watch my friends' mums come and pick 'em up, I had to wait for
my social worker. By the time I was twelve I had started secondary
school, they gave up on me as well and kicked me out. Do you have any
idea what that felt like? I aint a stupid kid, I was brought up right
you know, my mum used to call me her clever little boy. I could have
been something. I had to pass a test to get in to the school and I
aced it! Don't know how because I was never in the lessons, always
sent out for something or another. Looking back I regret it now, I
should have gone to school, got my GCSEs, maybe I could have got a job
and made my mum proud. Bought a car or a bike, just like the one my
dad owned. He liked cars, dad used to let me back the car out the
drive way when I was small. When he died I couldn't do that anymore.

How was the home? I hated the care home, full of weirdo's, like that
Mr Heinz. So when I was given a foster family I was relieved. Yeah
that's right I went to live at the Potters, nice enough family I
guess, never got on with Sarah though. She said I was an ungrateful
rat of a kid and that I was a bad influence on her precious son, John.
Believe me officer he weren't no angel. Him and I were like brothers,
I was accepted into his group of friends, I was part of the gang. They
were two years older than me though, seventeen and they had all left
school. I hated school, in the space of a year I had started four
schools, all of them excluding me. In the end I just gave up, it was
much better working in John's dad's garage. That's where I learnt how
to drive and I became a good mechanic. I never got paid for all my
hard work though, I had a job but I didn't have any money! I needed a

The first time I stole a car was from John's dad's garage but I didn't
think of it as stealing at the time, just a bit a fun with the guys.
We only drove around the park and we brought it back in one piece, no
harm done, no damage, no need for anyone to know. Well john's dad
found out and went ape shit. He chucked me out, calling me a
disappointment; he didn't even let me keep my job at the garage! I was
a failure.

I refused to go back to the care home and moved into a hostel a few
months back, on my sixteenth birthday I was alone, with very few
possessions, I tried to go back to the Potters but they wouldn't have
me back, John and his mates turned their backs on me, should of known
they were only using me. So I broke into their houses, just to have a
look. They had everything I didn't and again I was taken over by
jealousy. I was over come by sadness and left with just a camera,
which one day I hope to get enough money together to get the film
developed. Memories of another family I've lost.

Of course I've been arrested before, you've seen my records. I was a
bright kid and I knew a lot about cars, to jump start 'em was easy,
just a few sparks here and there and broom broom, listening to the
engine purrrrr. I was careless; John always told me it was ok to steal
but not ok to get caught! I used to joy ride cars to nowhere, I felt
better after a drive, it was a release! I felt part of the road. Then
your lot caught me one day, must have looked like a scene from the
movies, I ended up crashing into a shop window.

Anyway, why am I telling you all this, you don't care! You can just go
back to your home, wife and kids. I bet the dinner is on the table
when you get in. This is just a job; you get paid for protecting
people's lives, well what have you ever done for me? Nothing. Besides,
I'm sitting here in this room because I stole a snowman; I bet you all
had a laugh following me along the street, its body's fierce chill
freezing my fingers, breaking my back. I didn't even think it was a
crime to be lonely and in need of 'a mate with a mind as cold as the
slice of ice within my own brain.'

In the piece of writing above I took on the persona of the young
criminal from Carol Anne Duffy's "Stealing" poem. I wrote in first
person and created a story based on the idea that the young boy was
being interviewed in a police station. I found this extremely
entertaining to write and I tried hard to express his true feelings of
anger and loneliness. However I found this piece of writing rather
depressing and melancholy to read and would have preferred a 'lighter'
topic to write about. I addressed the reader as 'you' to keep the
story on a personal level and my intention was to make the reader feel
the boy's hostile and defensive attitudes. Overall I think I executed
the task successfully and managed to stay in character throughout the
story, and I have also used quotes from "Stealing" and these are shown
in inverted commas. To improve this I could have gone into greater
depth with the story.
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