My favorite thing to steal is bras. I don't know why. I'll not wear one when I go to the mall or store with the intention of stealing, and I'll go put on one that I like in the dressing room after ripping off the tags.
I remember how I started too. My boyfriend and I were in Claires and I said I liked a necklace, but we'd just spent all of our money on a movie. He goes and puts the necklace between our hands. I was in the eighth grade, and my home life sucked. The only other time I felt a rush that good was when I snuck my best friend into my bedroom because her mom had kicked her out. That's what started it. And now I could stop, but I have no interest in doing so.
Because, honestly, I love it.
There's this adrenline rush you get, the more you take the better it is, the more you want what you take, the better it is. I love it, that feeling. I'll put a hat on my head, a DVD in my purse, a bra on my chest, a tank top under my shirt, new pants in my Old Navy bag.
Even if I have money, I prefer to steal it.
I don't know why.
I just do.
And I love it.
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