I didn't plan to steal his wallet. I mean, I really didn’t. I didn’t wake up this morning and think “oh, we could really do with some money right now, let me just rob some off the next man who passes by.” I didn’t think that, although it’s true. We really could do with some money. I can barely feel the dirt that covers my face anymore; my heart skips a few beats as I catch my reflection in the glass as the morning sun twinkles through the rough brick wall into our cave-like habitat, if you could even call it that. I haven’t looked like myself in months. Andrew, my brother, has it worse, let me tell you that much. He almost never talks anymore and, when he does, his words mix together, the raspy sound stealing all the meaning. The lack of water really gets to him. I take daily trips down to the river, bucket in hand, tiptoeing through the streets, dodging any people and cars that pass by. I could win some sort of prize for the amount of stares I get in a minute. People on the streets of London aren’t used to dirty, half-naked girls running around in front of them. The first time I went, I sprinted – never again. A couple of burly policemen started yelling and chasing after me. I managed to get rid of them, ducking into dark alleyways and hidden gaps in the walls. My lack of clothes and any visibly clean skin meant I blended right in. I had to resist the thirst for a couple of days to avoid being seen but even as I started going more and more, there was never enough water to satisfy both myself and my brother. I never went more than once as I didn’t like leaving him, and he was in no state to even stand up, let alone move any closer to the river. Things were tough, to say the least. I’d forgotten what food tasted like by this time, and lost track of the days since I’d had a proper meal. Life wasn’t always this hard. I used to be the head cheerleader, using my luscious golden locks as boy magnets, practically pulling them in. I was a straight A student, teachers loved me. There was nothing more I needed. Family life was perfect, or so I thought anyway. Obviously not, or I wouldn’t be here. Let’s just say that Dad had some money issues. I say some, but we might as well change that word to a lot of money issues. We were kicked out of the house. Dad left us shortly afterwards. Mum found out she had cancer and didn’t last for long, especially without money for any proper treatment. I know she looks down on Andrew and I, and I can’t help but think I’ve disappointed her in so many ways. I didn’t know what else to do; it seemed the only option, the only way. I would often peek through the stone to watch people walking by. Every single one of them with such a different background, a history of their own. I found it fascinating to think about the people they know and the places they’ve been. The tourists are always the most entertaining, bright yellow flannel shirts and flips flops, pointing at everything in their sight, flashes blinding them as they snap every building, regardless as to whether they know what it is or not. I can’t help but always grin as I watch them pass, calling Andrew over to spy with me. He shakes his head, or at least that’s what I think his slight movement is as he stays leaning against the wall on the far side of the room, his pale blue eyes blank, lifeless. I don’t even think he has the energy to sleep anymore, as he looked the exact same way when I woke up this morning. Enough was enough. The last drops of water in the bucket felt heavenly as they spilled down my throat, waking everything up inside of me. Businessman strolled through the city streets in their fancy suits, talking obnoxiously loud on their professional mobiles. I couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealously as they hopped in and out of taxis, practically throwing money at the driver, as if they had billions to spare. They sipped on their coffee as they walked by; their hair perfectly gelled to the side, not a strand out of place. And that’s when it happened. He must’ve been in his 30s, a fairly young man. Although he was dressed a little more casually than some of the other pedestrians – he hadn’t tucked his button down shirt into his black ironed trousers – he looked like he could definitely afford the clothes. He held a large sized “Starbucks” cup in one hand and his sleek silver laptop in the other. He didn’t even have a case to keep it in; it was as if he was purposely showing off, wearing his money as if it grew on trees these days. And there it was. A black leather wallet, almost overflowing from the amount of cash that was obviously inside. I was doing him a favour really, it was practically falling out of his pocket, if I wouldn’t have taken it, someone else probably would have. I waited until the perfect moment, he had stepped past the brick and was starting to walk away when I shoved my hand through the wall and grabbed it, swiftly. He didn’t even glance back.