I am Devin Thomas. I’m a sixteen year-old juvenile delinquent in Manhattan. At least, that’s what the State says. They leave out the part about me being a total genius. If my parents were white business executives I’d be in and out of Harvard by now; but that’s not how life worked out. I never knew my daddy; my mom was a crack whore in the Projects. I grew up in the streets; my home is a nightclub’s 12-by-12 basement. The owner lets me stay there ‘cause I have some pretty dirty stuff on what his nightclub actually does. Drug deals, money laundering, stuff like that. So I don’t go to the cops and I can stay in the basement. Whoopee.


I don’t go to school, so I have a lotta time on my hands. I don’t meet that many people; I have my buddy Marcos, my girlfriend Katie, and that’s about it. But that’s all I need, really. I don’t get lonely much; Katie keeps me company and Marcos is always good for helping me make a few bucks.


It is kinda boring though. Occasionally Marcos and I’ll pull a good scam or a good robbery and that’s always fun; but that’s always small stuff, there’s never really any challenge. It’s not about the money, if I wanted I could get that from the nightclub owner. With me, it’s all about the thrill. Holding up a liquor store, ripping a few drugs off a street dealer, that’s all fine; but it doesn’t take any brainpower; anyone could do that. I want to do something that only I can do, something that takes genius. Something that takes a 16-year-old street-fighters body, the shot of a Delta Force sharpshooter, and the brain of an Einstein.

It was Tuesday, March 17th. Marcos and I jacked a Lexus and sold it to a chop shop. I got some good money for it; so I bought myself a nice suit and took Katie and one of her girlfriends to shop for a dress for her. Hot fire, I never knew girls clothes could get so expensive. It was worth it, though, she looked beautiful. A hot, deep red dress and high heels to match. I gave her a couple hundred to go get her hair done while I went to get us a car to drive.

I picked her up from the hair place in a Lincoln Town Car and her face was just glowing. I opened the door for her and she got in and kissed me on the cheek. “I love you, Devin.” She told me.

I smiled at her. “I’m glad, Katie.”

The valet at the steakhouse took our car and we went inside. We just started talking, talking like we haven’t talked in a long time.

I told her what I’d been thinking. “I’m just bored, Katie. There’s never any challenge in life. I mean this, jacking a car, getting some cash, taking you out; this is great and I love it. But I need a challenge, I need to do something that isn’t as easy as picking a lock and driving fast.”

She reached across the table and grabbed my hand. “Devin Thomas, look at me.

“You are a thrill junkie. You’re an adrenaline addict who doesn’t care about anyone in this whole world but me. And that makes you a dangerous man. Because if you don’t realize that life is sacred, you’ll just keep on finding newer ways to hurt and kill people, just to get that thrill. Eventually, you’ll just be that guy keeping body parts in the freezer. Eventually, you’re going to hurt someone you care about; whether you mean to or not. Don’t get me wrong Devin; I’m glad we could come somewhere nice tonight. I hate that you had to hurt someone else to get the money to do it. Isn’t there any other way you can get your thrills?”

I looked at her; and just like that, I had it. One job, the ultimate thrill, I can get all the money I need and never have to hurt anyone else ever again.

She saw the look in my eye. “Oh what have I done?”

I dropped her off at her house and took the Town Car back to where I got it. The owner was up in his office still, he never knew it was missing.

I sprinted back to the nightclub and darted into the basement. Marcos and his girlfriend were making out on my couch. “Marcos! Save that for when you’re married, man, I told you that! You.” I threw her shirt at her and pointed to the door. “Get out of my basement. You.” I pointed at Marcos. “We got prep work to do.”


I told him my plan and he about peed his pants on the spot. “Devin, are you nuts? Are you freaking loco?! You know who owns that place!”

He didn’t get it. “But that’s why it’s so sweet, man. They won’t ever know who it was. Not a clue. Just don’t flash the cash too much, keep your head down, and we’ll be okay.”

We were going to hit MS-13; the baddest group of psychos on the planet. They would be broke AND have the cops coming down on them at the same time. Booyah.

For three months, I stayed out of trouble. I talked to Katie a few times a week, I never told her about the heist. The cops never saw me, I didn’t talk to any of my crook contacts. Marcos did the same. He even showed up to school a couple times.

But there was a point to all this. The whole time, we were prepping, getting what we’d need to pull off the job.

Katie looked at me with a new kind of respect when I told her I’d actually opened up a savings account. “Woodard National” I told her. The look of respect she gave me was a new kind of feel-good.

And yet, with it came a bad kid of feeling. I was hiding something from her. She didn’t know it, or maybe she did; I dunno.

Finally the day came. It was time to pull off the job. It was time for me to experience the ultimate thrill.

I put on my suit and tie. The same one that I bought the day I took Katie out to dinner. My new toys were in the briefcase I was carrying. My black ski mask was scrunched up in my right hand.

I got there and my prepaid phone buzzed. I didn’t answer. I knew who it was, it was Marcos buzzing me to let me know he was inside and ready to go.

I walked through the doors to Woodard National, MS -13’s bank. I’d kept my head down, avoiding the cameras. Right as I walked in the bank, I pulled up my right hand and slipped the mask on. I popped the briefcase open and slid it on the ground. Light and noise exploded everywhere. Marcos tossed me my M-16 and I popped the guard standing by the vault entrance. For good measure, I popped a few rounds off randomly. We slipped back in that vault full of cash and grabbed one of those stacks of millions. I slid my rolling briefcase under it, stacked another one on top of it and left. Marcos sprinted out ahead to start the car.

I was moving, and then something made me stop. A glimpse of a shoe, I froze. That high heel. No. No, no no no.

It was Katie. She was wearing that dress I had bought for her, and she was on the ground bleeding. I dropped the money and grabbed her. I ran out of the building as fast as I could to load her in the getaway car.

“Man, where’s the money?!” Marcos yelled at me.

“Forget the money! Drive, get her to the hospital!”

He drove and I looked down at her. “Katie. What happened?” The tear dropped out of my eye and landed on her cheek. “What happened?”

She looked up at me, she was in a daze. “You told me you started saving money; I wanted to too. I thought—“ She started coughing, blood came out. The hole in her stomach spurted out blood. “I thought that one day, we could start a life together.”

I told her about the account. She was there because of me. She was shot; because I had to squeeze off a few rounds for good measure.

Katie was right, on all counts. Life is sacred, and because I had to get my thrill, I stole that life from the one person I actually cared about.

What had I done?