Missing Piece: Part 6

Written by: Giselle Peralta

I huffed. I didn’t want to steal it. No, well–part of me loved it. I loved it so much. It made me feel. I could feel everything. My heart pumping. My lungs flooding. My eyes watering. I could hardly believe it wasn’t made by a celestial being of complete perfection, but with a brush, paint, and a few careful strokes. It was so much more… I was certain no one who stood before it felt the way I did. It seemed to reach out and pull my heart…

I shake my head. I need it. I really need it. This painting… it’ll make life so much better. I need it more than the passing people that stop to glance at it for maybe once in their life. I remember time seemed to stop when I would set my eyes on the painting. I thought that maybe time did stop. My need for the painting is more than my conscience. The museum has plenty of art anyways. They make plenty of money.

I unhinge the painting from the wall, careful not to make a sound. I had seen the security earlier today; they were not very friendly. I remember trying to stay in late; the scrawniest security guard would eye most innocent child. I remember seeing that.

I eye the dark hallways wearily.

For a moment I wonder if I’d lose my job.

No. I need this.

With a final nod, I take the painting. I check my pocket and feel the coldness of my car keys. Life is going to be better…

I can feel my stomach churning as I load the painting into the trunk of my car. I dry the tears in my eyes with a handkerchief. This is either going to ruin my life or make it. I’ve taken things before in the past. I shouldn’t be so nervous. Nothing ever happens.

That doesn’t stop my shallow breathing.

“Everyone’s a sinner,” I grumble to myself. I think about the people I work with. The people I see every day. The people that matter. “This chance is worth it.”

I slam the back closed and take the wheel of the car.

“Everyone’s a sinner.”