Here is another example of someone taking something from Monfeld, and the consequences of doing so. Once again I have to stress, do not steal things from abandoned locations. Even if the worst issue is bacteria and disease, why take the risk? And what if the consequences are far worse?
As always if you have any questions please let us know.
What I did is not a crime. It is weird, because when you watch cartoons and comics, stealing jewellery is the most obvious ways to commit an offence. A classic superhero villain trope. But now the mall was closed, isn’t this stuff up for grabs? This place is going to get knocked down. Anything left will be pulverized. I cannot see who gets hurt by this.
When Monfeld was open, the security on the jewellery shop was all encompassing. Bars on the windows. Multiple locks. An actual security person on the door. This was meant to be an enjoyable place to spend your money, but the reality was a prison.
Now the shopping centre is a darkened shadow, it was clear I had not been the first one to think of breaking in. The bars were twisted wreckage, and all was twisted like an animal had tried to wrench its way through. All those beautiful displays were cluttered wrecks. That thick security door had finally been bested.
I slipped through the gap in the broken entrance. Even in the chaos, a hint of the previous opulence remained. The firewood of ruined stands were a higher quality than the shredded rags of MDF of the indie shops. But the jewelry was gone.
All I wanted to do was find one thing. Soon I was down on my hands and knees digging around in the grot. It took a great deal of time. About two hour. But at last, wedged under a broken bit of desk, I found an earring.
It had golden curls on the side, and a diamond underneath. Even with a layer of dirt over the top, this was such a find. My next step was not wise. But I got my ears pierced last year for my birthday. Into my skin it went. A shard of broken mirror still clung to the left hand wall of the shop. My new prize dangled like a pirate.
I had nothing to worry about on my return home from Monfeld. When I got home, all I wanted to do was stare at it. I stare still in the mirror as I type this. And my friends are with me. And although they put their hands on my shoulders, and those hands are scabbed, I know that without a doubt we are friends.
