Earbuds in. Tennis shoes on. Let's go.

My hands tuck into the pockets of my jacket. Music floods my ears as my eyes search my surroundings. There is a fear factor in walking alone at age 17, but, I guess that's something I'd like to disregard at the moment. I don't know where I'm going, but I've got a backpack full of art supplies and an open mind to help me decide. I'm gonna attempt another one of my weird sketchy paintings. Or draw. Or color. Or--Who knows? I've got all of it, just in case. I've even got some of my old sketchbooks to inspire some creativity, as well as a couple new ones, of varying sizes, of course. I'm considering the park a couple blocks down from my house, but I'm not feelin' too inspired by the rusty playground architecture.

One of Beethoven's songs comes on, I'm not really sure which one, but I like it. This is the first time I've gone on a real walk alone. Or at all, really. It's pretty refreshing, so far. I close my eyes for a second and breath in the fresh outside air. Classical music flows through my brain, dancing around as if it was in a ballroom. I lov--

I feel a rough yank on my back and a weight is lifted off my shoulders. Literally.

My head lashes around to find out what happened. I see a guy prancing off with my backpack in hand. I don't know what he's stealin' it for. I have no money in there. Just useless art supplies and sketchbooks.

Nevertheless, those things are worth a lot to me.

I dash after him, hoping I'll be able to catch him before he finds out that everything in there is worthless and tosses it in a trash can. I plead in my brain for him to return it. But he doesn't stop and suddenly give it back, he keeps on running, and running, and running. I can't keep up. So I stop, reluctantly.

My heart throbs at the loss of my priceless art. A tear streams down my face, mocking my carelessness; my recklessness. Silently screaming at me for not being able to catch him; to get my stuff back.

I take my hand and wipe that tear away. I refuse to listen to it. I take a deep breath and try to think logically.

Ok. What do people do in these situations? They call the cops! So that's what I'll do.

I search for my phone to report the theft, only to remember that it's in my backpack; the stolen one. Wow.

Today is just not my day.