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Identity Theft

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Conveyed and sustained at this central destination are blocks of green and rolls of metal. The building tall as surrounding towers; is where most people make their pivotal decisions that will affect the remanding outcomes of their lives and others.
Here, at the bank, is where the dwelling flow into lines of two or three, waiting for service by some middle age woman. Some persons possessing the characteristics of impatience, wait while tapping their shoe against the marbled floor and checking wristwatches to the immoderate. Others quietly cogitate the duties they must fulfill before they lay their heads on pillows of cotton. You are in a suit, with a long black cloak, showcasing the appearance of the professional you are. Being held in your right hand is a suitcase that carries your green gold.
At the end of the service line, you come to conceive thoughts of your precious money. You are depositing more money for your child’s college tuition. Responsibility tell you to do this, but a small red devil on your shoulder makes you wonder if your child will even go to that place that gives black robes and hats with numbers. Whatever opposition you have, you steadily progress in the line.
Nested in the middle of the service line, you come to ponder all the renovations you are going to have to make on your house for 40 grand over. Dollar signs spring into your mind. You look around the billet, your impatience becoming noticeable. You knit your brow in hasten wait. Looking down at your suitcase you press it tighter to your thigh, and you step closer to the front of the line.
Now you are near the front of the line. You grab some mints from your pocket and swirl them around in your mouth. Perspiration forms between your brows, anxiousness arouses in you. The helpless mind wonders why wait so long in this line, to deposit arm folds of green Franklin bills. Closer you inch yourself to the businesswoman waiting to assist you.
At the front of the line. Finally. You wipe the sweat from your forehead. You assert a request to the Banker you want to deposit some money. You ask her how her day was. She remarks fine, and you wonder why she did not ask you. Your packets of money goes in your account. You know thousands of your bills are rested inside a vault with double chained locks. When the Banker says the process is done, you smile and say good-bye. You turn your heel and exit. Rested in your mind is satisfaction, knowledge that your green gold is in those vaults with double chained locks.
Weeks of the same procedure occur, becoming less of a fluster and more of a automatical account than anything else.
In time passed without any special occurrence.
Mail comes into your house as it always had. You get advertisements and some coupons amongst other papers of junk. But a bright yellow envelope catches the side of your eye. You shuffle the other envelopes, and hold up this yellow one.
It is from the Bank. An unexpected letter.
You tear open the sides. What is this anxiety you feel? You eyes scan the contents of the text
Your total money in your bank account has reached $0.00. You owe us a fee for surpassing the total in your account...
Innumerous numbers are distributed.



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Cassie1435This teenager is a 'regular' and has contributed a lot of work, comments and/or forum posts, and has received many votes and high ratings over a long period of time. This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Jul. 1, 2013 at 11:12 pm
OMG this is absoulutly amazing !
 
jlsnchz replied...
Jul. 2, 2013 at 1:26 pm
Thanks for your feedback, or rather comment! Glad we liked each others work! 
 
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