Don't chase the rabbit.
As Albert worked on his skills, he made friends with a small gang of kids. They managed to teach them some tricks, and so did he. Splitting the loot always meant less for each of them, but also safety in numbers. Or so he thought.
Albert froze up when they told him their next big plan. “Rob a store???” That could only end badly, he knew. The plan was simple enough. One keeps watch, two make for a distraction, one goes for the money, another one for food. It did go wrong. At least no one died, though it would not have taken much. Trace was the last one to run when they got busted, but he managed to slip through the adults hands. At least two of the other kids weren’t so lucky.
He ran until his chest hurt, probably a few streets far, and then hid where he was for what felt like an hour. No one came. No one had found him or followed him. With still shaky legs, he crawled out of his hideout and made his way home.
He just turned around the corner when he saw two cops knock on the door of his home. One of the caught kids must have ratted him out. He froze on the spot. They hadn’t noticed him yet, but he wasn’t afraid of the cops. He wasn’t afraid of prison. He was afraid of what his mother would do after hearing about his crimes. She wouldn’t just hurt him. She would kill him.
The door opened. His mother first looked at the policemen, then spotted him behind them. Without a second thought, he turned around and ran, never looking back again, never coming back.
