A Betrayal of Thievery

The sirens blared in my ears as I crouched behind the counter filled with jewels. 

I twirled the small brass key in my hand, my twin brother breathing heavily next to me, smiling tightly. 

Jeremy and I had grown up in an old rundown orphanage together and had been released just a few months ago, as we had turned eighteen. 

The classic baby-left-on-the-orphanage-doorstep. We were the living incarnate. No note attached, no money, no names. Just Jeremy and I in a beige basket made of twill. Only days old.

We grew up in the orphanage together. I was always the rebellious twin, and Jeremy the quiet one, looking up to me-but also righting my wrongs. He would always cover for me when I broke something. I can't say I didn't use it to my advantage.

We were left little money when we were released into the real world, just ourselves and the clothes on our backs. We had made do by learning how to hijack worn house locks; empty houses, the family that lived there gone for the weekend. We would eat their food and sleep in their beds, wearing our black leather gloves the entire time, to not leave any revealing fingerprints.

Jeremy had always been the soft one, not wanting to resort to thievery and lawbreaking. I had set him straight, explaining how it was all we could do to get by, instead of living on the streets, shamefully begging strangers for scraps of food or money. Jeremy had come around, finding the fun that could be found as thieves. The exhilaration, the built-up adrenaline, the wind rushing past your face as you run from the cops who were too slow to catch you. 

Now, Jeremy and I crouched behind the counter filled with jewels, two sets of uptilted sapphire eyes staring at each other, Jeremy's raven hair hanging over his eyes, cupping his sharp cheekbones. My raven hair brushed my shoulders like a kiss of death, its ends uneven, as I had cut it myself with scissors I found in an abandoned house. We both were clad in stolen leather obsidian, miraculously formed to our skinny starved bodies, light with muscle from past heists. Midnight hoods were draped over our raven hair in hopes for the prying security cameras to fail in their attempt to obscure our faces. 

“Jemma,” my brother whispered. “They’ll be here soon.” By they, he meant the cops. We had broken in just a few seconds ago-the jewelry store left alone in the dead of night, now disrupting the quiet night, its alarms shrieking. Now the police sirens joined in its clashing melody.

We’d had this plan set for weeks after walking into the store and pickpocketing the key from the owner's belt. 

I twirled the key in my hand once more, my lips curling upwards slightly, and placed the key into the lock. I jiggled it once, securing its position in the lock.

One turn, and Jeremy and I would be able to get our own food. Our own apartment. Our own beds. Our own clothes. One turn, and Jeremy and I wouldn’t have to steal anymore, or not as much, at least. 

So I turned the key, the faintest pop of a spring meeting my ears. I exhaled as the glass door protruded open just a crack. I opened the glass door, hauling all of the gold, silver, and jewels into the cheap purse I had brought. 

Jeremy watched me heave the jewelry into the bag as he stood up slightly, getting ready to get out of here. 

After placing all of the goods in the bag, I left the glass door swung open and dropped the key next to it, not bothering to pretend a robbery had not occurred. I smiled widely at Jeremy, and he smiled back, the grin not quite reaching his sapphire eyes. 

The police sirens were louder now, and my adrenaline rushed in my blood. I closed the purse now filled with riches and went around Jeremy to the large, jagged hole in the shop window that we had broken as we had barged in by. I reached the glass aperture as Jeremy grabbed my bicep, his firm hand wrapped around it. I turned around briskly. “What?” I hissed.

“We can’t just go out the front of the shop, it’s too obvious, the police will be right there,” Jeremy whispered cautiously. Again, there was that strange look in his eyes, his black brows furrowed together like they were when he was filled with confusion or regret… 

“Fine,” I replied, trying to ease Jeremy’s nerves. “Where shall we exit then?”

“I saw an exit in the back of the shop, it leads to a dark alleyway.” Jeremy’s eyes avoided my own. He was probably in one of those soft moods again.

“Okay, great,” I said, trying to go with whatever Jeremy wanted so he could calm his nerves. 

Jeremy led me to the back of the shop, the sirens getting louder and louder, their wails echoing in my head. We reached the back exit. “Jemma,” my brother said softly, “I have to tell you something-”

I pushed past him, “We have to go now, tell me later,” I said, opening the back door into the alleyway. But the alleyway was not dark as Jeremy had said. Instead, it was glowing with red and blue flashing lights. Red and blue and red and blue. Continuing on a loop, synchronized with their accompanied wails. 

I stumbled into the middle of the alleyway, spinning around, but there were police cars parked there too. We were surrounded. 

I turned back to Jeremy, who was standing in front of the exit door to the jewelry shop. “Go back in!” I screamed at him, shoving him back. But my brother didn’t budge.

“Jemma,” he started, but was interrupted by the PA of the cars.

“Jemma Furtas,” a stoic voice said firmly. “Drop the bag and put your hands up where we can see them.”

I stepped back from Jeremy. We’d been caught. But-but they had only said my name-my name. Not his, not Jeremy. Jemma. Only Jemma. Not Jeremy. 

I backed away from my brother, my face hardening, my hands shaking. Jeremy stared at me, his eyes wide and dejected, his mouth parted opened slightly, as he stared down at me. He reached for me, but I stumbled back. “Don’t touch me.” I said quietly, fazed.

Jeremy’s arms went limp at his sides. “Jemma,” he pleaded.

The officer called out again on his speaker. “Jemma Furtas. Drop the bag and put your hands up where we can see them.”

I dropped the black purse onto the ground, not taking my eyes off my brother. I raised my hands slowly, a tear leisurely sliding down my cheek.

“Jemma,” Jeremy started again.

“Did you turn me in?” I asked quietly, my throat aching.

Jeremy turned his face downwards, silver lining his eyes.

“You turned your own twin sister in,” I resolved. “Your own sister, your last known family member. For what?” 

Jeremy remained silent.

“FOR WHAT, JEREMY?” I screamed. I would make this as painful for him as possible.

He shook, his black ensemble illuminated by the red and blue from the lights of the police cars.

The officers got out of their vehicles. Coming towards me. Coming to take me from my own brother. My betraying brother.

“You’ll die without me,” I said to my brother. A crazed calm. “You’ll starve, sleeping on the streets.”

“You need help,” Jeremy ground out.

I laughed maniacally as if to prove his point. “So, you would rather send me away to the slammer than live comfortably? To preserve your sense of ethics?”

The police approached me, firmly slamming my hands together behind my back.

I stared at Jeremy. I probably looked insane, my uneven raven hair mussed from the hood, strands of it stuck to my face wet with regretful tears. “Tell my brother not to come see me,” I said evenly to him.

“Jemma-I am your brother.”

“No,” I said. “Not anymore.”

The police wrapped the handcuffs around my wrists, the harsh cold metal biting into my flesh unforgivingly.

I looked one last time at Jeremy, spitting at the ground, and turned my head away sharply as the cops forcibly led me to their cars.