
Isabelle Cleora Byington...The Theif
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Cleo walked into her room, dragging her bags behind her. She sighed, walking to room 7A.
I wonder if I have a roommate... That would be fun! Finally, she arrived, and looked inside, seeing a single bed. Darn. That meant she was going to have to steal things from someone farther away.
Cleo has a stealing problem, plain and simply. Kleptomania, as the doctors called it. She didn't just like to steal, she
had to. The psychologists could never figure out why, and her parents hated it. Too many times, would they walk into the house and find something new inside it. Then, they got the letter, went to the meeting for Fantasy Academy. Flabbergasted didn't even begin to describe how they felt. Although, it all made sense. It was why she had the "problem", because she was meant to be a theif.
Which was exactly how Cleo liked it. She loved to steal, to get her hands on things. It wasn't wrong: people should figure out how to guard their stuff better. Besides, losing something was a great reminder to keep track of things. So, Cleo stole. She loved to take socks. Oh, how annoying people found it, to have a single sock, without a match. The look on their faces, the annoyance, it was hilarious!
So now, she easily figured out why she had a room to herself. The Academy did this on purpose, as now she couldn't take things as easily. It was disheartening, really, but just added to the challenge. It wasn't like anything could keep her from stealing... So, she began to unpack her things.
~~~Time skip!~~~
Waking with a yawn, Cleo got out of her bed, stretching a bit. She was quite limber and flexible, which helped her get into small spaces, ones perfect to hide in when someone is looking for you. Finished with that, she grabbed her shower items, along with clean clothes, and headed to the bathroom. Once there, she took a quick but nice shower, and toweled off, slipping into today's outfit. She wore her usual, slightly tom-boy style. A red and white striped top, with a yellowish bandana around her neck. Cargo shorts. And a "baker boy" cap. Applying some makeup, and drying her hair, she finished getting ready for the morning. Then she dropped everything back into her room, not with a hint of organization.
After that, Cleo headed down to breakfast. She walked discreetly down the hall, then entered the area, heading to the lunch line. She got some fruit, and searched for tea. Every day did this lass have tea, morning and night. It was a ritual, one that hadn't been broken in one thousand eight hundred and ninety three days. Cleo had counted. Yet, today, it seemed to come to an end. After a moment of pause, she regained normality. Now, she sat down at a table with people sitting at it, not wanting to be a loner. Best to make friends, after all. "'Ello!" She said happily. The boy had just finished recognizing the girl as being "Valerie," yet she had not yet heard his name. Still, her tone was warm and friendly, and her crooked smile was on her face. Her voice had an Irish accent to it, and it made it sound cute.
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The thief is sorry he is to be caught, not that he is a thief
I'm not sorry at all.