Thief In The Night

Inspired by some true events. Do not harass if you manage to somehow unmask!

By Snarky LisaPublished a day ago • 3 min read

To the thief in the night that took and replicated what once was mine:

Honestly, I feel kind of bad for you.

It’s funny, because we hardly know each other. I only know of you through the magazines you’ve written and the broadcasts you have televised in the past — as well as through the public mentions of you from your show business connections there.

On the other hand, I’m not even sure you’ve heard of me beyond that one amulet of mine which you so graciously ran off with to replicate and attach to your name. Actually, scratch that. You attached my talisman to your grievances. Your grudges there weren’t even supposed to be about me, either — although they did involve someone both of us knew.

Regardless, I can’t imagine you liked me all that much back then. Sure, I don’t recall you ever saying anything specific condemning me like I’ve seen many other people do over the years. But you sure as hell hung around the kinds of people who did. You know: the types of people with names and lists all collected and intricate.

When I first woke up to your mini-museum display and distortion of my amulet’s purpose, I didn’t want to say too much about it. Perhaps you didn’t know, I thought, especially since you didn’t technically say exactly who made it. But it was still displayed from your cohort. The implication was certainly there that either you created it or its maker condoned their sense of anonymity.

Months passed. You got into more fights with other collection rivals, and I still didn’t really bother to bring up what you had exploited from me.

I mean, it wasn’t even that good anyways. It was just something I had made in my free time to let out my emotions, not for the sake of competition or winning awards. It was definitely not made for whatever you used it to do — especially when you had so many better options swirling around you that fit the theme you were looking for.

Eventually, though, the governor decided to reduce security and let more people tamper with everything in the collections. With this abysmal lack of protection, it became ridiculously easy for records to be falsified and adulterated. It was then I decided to try to contact you. Weeks went by, though, and you never replied.

And now we’re here. After getting into so many disputes over art collections and museum displays, you eventually got caught for hiding the records of a felon in your backrooms. You got confronted by a bunch of investigators, quickly backing down in the process. It ended up all over the press — just like your battles against your old rivals once did when you had more power.

Obviously, you never ended up addressing the talisman you got from me. But you did display something far more important — remorse for the worst deeds you’ve done.

Unlike many of your contemporaries, you didn’t resort to self-pity or extreme defensiveness. You handled the chaos like the adult you were, remaining collected yet willing to accept the consequences of your actions.

Oddly enough, I did think about going public with your little heist on my amulet from nearly a year past when your reputation was finally put under fire for good recently. I have been in kerfuffles with your circles in the past, after all, and I did fear an association being misconstrued out of context. Ultimately, however, I couldn’t bring myself to do so.

Despite your expressions of regret and your willingness to cooperate with the authorities, you’re still (understandably, I hate to admit) the target of frequent mockery for your recently discovered coverup. One of your closest friends has also decided to throw you under the bus, pretending you somehow just wanted to act high and mighty over him despite his actions being far worse.

So wherever you are: good luck — maybe.

Things have gotten out of control for the past while, though.

I hope this ages well…