The Thief And His Mother Novels & Stories

he spits, slowly walking toward me. “One could argue that the real thief is the one who stole the egg from it’s mother,” I say, stepping back as he continues to walk toward me. “I warned my son, but he wouldn’t listen. He was too enamored with you, too willing to believe that your pretty face couldn’t and wouldn’t betray him like this. But I know the truth. No one pays attention to the crazy man. They just put me in a corner and forget about me. But I’ve watched, I’ve seen you, and I know what you’ve done.”

It was unlike her graceful mother who would always be there to cheer for him calmly. "Never approach me again you little thief." Victor wasn't calling her a little thief because of what happened then, he called her a thief because she stole everything from him. The love, warmth, and care for a mother. She selfishly killed it with her own hands and even worse, she acts like she doesn't know what she did. That disgusting girl that stole away the nurture that was supposed to be there and turned a whole family upside-down.

No one can keep her trapped. Although she had gone out a few times before, the world outside was much livelier than in the dreary palace. She always got excited every time she went out. She bought all kinds of fun things when she wandered around. She enjoyed buying those things. She was very generous too. However, unexpectedly, she bumped into some thieves. When she realized that they had stolen her purse, she shouted anxiously, "Catch the thief! Catch the thief!" It wasn't just money in her purse, but also the jade pendant her mother left her. This was the only gift her mother ever gave her. She couldn't lose such an important item!

He’d stolen her life, her destiny, her very identity. “Ma’am, you don’t have to kill him,” Finn said beside me, earning a dangerous growl from Mother. “Why?” she questioned. “Not yet. I need to find out why he destroyed my pack and my family.” Mother dragged the bleeding, broken man to the center of the gathering, her claws digging into his arm. Blood seeped through his shredded clothes, and his face was so swollen it was barely recognizable. The crowd’s collective gasp and horrified whispers swelled around us. Mother’s grip never wavered, her eyes aflame with righteous fury as she presented him like a trophy—a warning of what happens to those who betray her.

Mom was sticking her head out of the window, shouting at someone below. At 1:08 pm, she went down the stairs and walked out onto the field. She grabbed my arm, yanking my body upward. It flopped right back down. Then she turned around and walked off. A haunting silence filled the security room. Mom stared at the footage of her walking away, her lips shaking. "Keep playing the footage," Dad said.

And now, she would face it alone. That night, the dream came again — but this time, the silver child turned its head toward her. Its eyes were bright and familiar. “Mother,” it whispered. And then the moon shattered.

She bit her tongue, but I could tell she was nearly shrieking with fury. “James…Would you please send the chickens by and we’d like a squirrel as well.” I reached back to mom and she slapped a coin in my hand. I put it to the top of the booth and slid it over to him. James nodded. “Of course. As I told her, I’ll be by tonight.” I nodded slowly. Turning from the stand and putting my arm around my shorter mother to guide her away before she made more of a scene. “He’s a damnable thief!” She declared in a huff.

I walked past the both of them, I was holding my breath as I passed. "And here she is, the thief of bagdad." I heard Jessica say in between laughters. I paused a bit and continued climbing the stairs. "What do you mean?" Hawk asked his sister. "She stole my Jewelries brother, I don't know why mum keeps harboring thieves in our house. There is no doubt that are mother is also a thief, poor people are losers. And they should be treated like one, they should be feeding on our leftovers and be leaving outside this mansion." Jessica replied her brother.

From all angles, he begins to be curious and look for the whereabouts of his mother and father. "Are you a thief?!" reprimanded the mother's voice that came from behind his back. Suddenly, Nevan turned back with a greeting while scratching the back of his head. "Uh, Mom," he call with his lips forced into a splay. "Why are you? Why are you stooping like a thief?” complained of the mother begins to turn back. Seeing his mother approaching the kitchen, he followed her mother's path. In his heart he begins to mumble, “Is this true mother? Or is it just a trick?”

For a brief moment, the water drowned out everything—my mother’s voice, the pressure of her demands, the memory of her schemes. Her plan replayed in my mind regardless. The crown jewels of Keladia. She wanted me to steal them. Said I looked exactly like their queen, and that resemblance was the key to slipping past suspicion. I didn’t doubt it—the photo I’d found online confirmed it. The woman in the picture screamed old money, elegance, and perfect manners. All things I wasn’t. I was a thief. A damn good one. The devil in disguise, always dancing at the end of my mother’s strings, eager for her approval even though it never seemed enough.