Impulse

Sharon could not take it anymore. she would not take it, no, she told herself. She won't do it. Her hands reached for the products on the rack, and quickly stuffed them in her oversize jacket. The feeling of wanting to rush out and being caught filled inside her and merged both satisfying and terrifying emotions, that's what kept her from doing it.

The first time she shoplifted was with her friends from high school in a local shopping mall. She never contacted them again after getting expelled. The security was insufficient and the stuff were cheap, nobody cared if they lost some. A pile of gums and few candy bars were all they took. After a few times they got bolder and hit a beauty shop, while two of the girls were stalling the sales person, the others stole high end beauty products and snuck those out. It worked until they were caught doing the same thing so often in the same place. Dumb was all her parent said, and stupid, to the officer.

They were booked for theft as misdemeanor but because of their age, they were given a chance and had to attend therapy sessions in scheduled time. She admitted it was an act on impulse and the peer pressure that dominated her mind to the therapist. They discussed and communicated toward a common solution. That didn't quite work out after her release.

She was confronted with all the shiny things inside the mall and could not resist the urge to steal something, anything. Countless time she busted out the mall tearing in agony, cursing on her inability to be disciplined. The temptation was larger than her.

Lost she was, and the vicious cycle continued. She rolled into bigger joints and targeted more expensive loots. Every time she walked out of the shop she just stole from, a weird sensation would surface and consume her body and soul, rendering her vulnerable.

Each heist aiming for a different price. Perfumes, lipsticks, wines even. 

Of course she was caught in action for several times but she paid and settled the thing like she just forgot to check out. She didn't want the police involved because that meant her ass would be on the line, more therapy or straight to juvenile center. This kind of money should not be spared, she told herself.

Eventually she got arrested telling the same lie in the very place. Dumb, and stupid. The jail time for her felony charges summed up to five years.

She was sent to the same therapist again. She told the same story again, convinced that was all an act on impulse. What she didn't know was the thing the therapist wrote on the remark: Impulsive and Delusional. Psychiatric.