John was cold and hungry as he slipped out of the alley, he had found refuge in the night before. John had grown up hard and fast. His father had disappeared from his life before he was even old enough to remember him. His mom had tried to care for him as best as she could, but times were tough for everyone.

When he was 8 his mom and he moved in with her parents in one of the boroughs of New York. His grandfather was a strict Sicilian who led with a belt if John got in the way. His grandfather would regularly tell him that he was going to turn out to be a no-good hoodlum just like his father before him if he didn’t straighten out.  Shortly after his 12^th birthday John’s mom had come down with the flu and died unexpectedly – leaving him with a small box of memories and in the care of grandparents who didn’t want him. At 14 John walked out the door after a particularly harsh beating and never looked back.

Now, two years later, he found himself still wandering the streets doing odd jobs as he could and barely surviving. No matter how hard it had gotten, however, John refused to give his grandfather the satisfaction of becoming a criminal like his father. John had opened up some of his mom’s old letters after she died and it was obvious that his father had been mixed up in some kind of criminal activity. Then, the last letter he had read had been from a friend of his father’s letting his mom know that he had been gunned down and that no more money would be coming in – that was dated right before they had moved in with his grandparents.

Now, however, his resolution to never do anything criminal was being strained. He hadn’t eaten in nearly two days and if the line of people outside of the soup kitchen was any indication they would be running out of food before John got inside once again.

At that moment John noticed an older lady turn the corner off of the main street into a darker side street carrying a large purse held loosely on her arm. Deciding he simply didn’t care any longer what his grandfather might think John quickly followed the women. Coming up swiftly behind her he grabbed her purse and began running quickly down the street before slipping into an alley and down another street on the other end. He kept running, excitement and fear coursing through him expecting to hear sirens at any moment. After what felt like hours he stopped in a dirty alley behind a small pub and rummaged through the purse – he found $5.00 and some old candy. Laughing to himself he happily made his way into the pub and ordered a sandwich. The take wasn’t much but John had to admit – the thrill was addicting.