You Do The Crime, You Pay The Time

• Lucy Mcguirk, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2008

Tom nervously looked around to make sure no one was about and then turned back towards the window. He felt the solid, cold rock in his palm before building up as much strength as he possibly could and letting it fly towards the shiny, sheer window. The window slowly fell to the soft, freshly-mowed grass in a thousand tiny pieces. Tom gazed at the stunning sight. The delicate fragments of glass cascaded towards the ground like a beautiful, sparkling shower of rain on a warm summer’s afternoon. Tom quickly returned to reality, scrambled through the window and landed on the floor with a THUMP! He looked around at the unfamiliar surroundings. There was a TV in the corner, a lounge in the centre and a beautiful family portrait on the far wall. Tom cautiously walked over to the lounge and sat down in relief. He stared at the portrait that hung so delicately from the wall. He concentrated on the cheerful, smiling faces and, just for a second, felt totally and utterly content.

Tom had been breaking into houses for years now. It was becoming an obsession and he was beginning to become a master at it. He was especially good at picking locks; however this house had been impossible to get into so he had to resort to breaking the window. He’d never broken anything before, never caused the owner any grief or despair, and he felt quite guilty about smashing the window, but he’d been so desperate. It was like a powerful, vicious drug, consuming all his time and money. Consuming his life. When he could stop, he didn’t want to and when he wanted to stop, he simply couldn’t. People assumed that he did it for the money, however Tom had never stolen anything in his life, except maybe a can of Coke if he got thirsty. No, money wasn’t his motive. Nor was the thrill and adrenalin rush that one gets when doing something wrong. Tom just liked to pretend that he was part of a normal family. He longed to be one of these people. He longed to sit around the table and eat dinner as a family before snuggling up on the lounge to watch TV and drink Milo. He wanted it more than anything in the entire world. However, it was the one thing in the entire world that he simply could not have. Tom breathed in the sweet, fresh smell before jumping out the window and running home to reality. If only he could legally feel that sense of love and well-being that he so desired.

Tom walked through the door to find his mother sprawled across the lounge in front of the television a bottle of foul smelling liquid in her hand. He stood in front of the lounge and took a good look at his one and only parental figure. A dull, blonde blanket of hair embraced her hunched shoulders. Her frail figure sat there looking defeated and slightly pathetic. Her sky blue eyes, that once must have sparkled with youth and joy, stared at the flashing TV with such concentration that it made Tom slightly edgy. As Tom went to bed he tried so hard to care about his mother and her pathetic and meaningless existence, tried so hard to pity her. However, he couldn’t help but feel indifferent about her. She had never bought him anything, never disciplined him or taught him anything. He loved his mother, but he didn’t like her.

Tom woke from a nightmare in a sweaty and distressed state. He had dreamt of breaking the window, of going to goal and of ending up like his hopeless and pathetic mother. He couldn’t deal with his conscience anymore, he had to do something. Tom quickly pulled on a stained and creased shirt and ran out the door. He ran straight to the house with the broken window and hesitated before knocking on the door. When an old, frail man answered he was speechless. He’d expected a stunning and smiling family, the type that would be completely understanding and forgiving and then invite him in after for milk and cookies. Instead a lonely and bitter looking man stood before him. What could he say? Was there any excuse for what he had done? Should he just run away? Tom stood there in silence for a brief moment before finally opening his mouth and confessing everything. The old man stood there with an expressionless look on his face while Tom apologised, pleaded, explained and begged for forgiveness.

After Tom was left with nothing more to say the old man began to speak in a stern but friendly voice.
“Well, I’ve already organised for the window to be replaced, but you can come back here tomorrow and mow the lawn for me. After that I’m sure I’ll find something for you to do until you earn your forgiveness.”
Tom was shocked. He looked at the old man as if he were mad. The old man looked pleased.
“You do the crime, you pay the time”, he said before walking inside, leaving Tom with an enormous smile plastered on his face. He had never been disciplined before, and it felt incredible.