It was my 744th day in this prison, Velominus Correctional Institute. I've spent my days painting, reading, and reflecting. Time flies like migrating flapidgeons flying south. How did I get here?Although it has been over 2 years ago, I still remember it vividly.

My partner, Eshio, had been planning a huge heist for months. As we were both dangerously near bankruptcy, we desperately needed cash. Eshio's wife required treatment for an unexplainable disease, something the doctors called "malignancy." He had 2 young toddlers to feed as well. To support him, I worked at every odd job I could find. In this galaxy, it isn't easy for a woman to make a living fairly. I resorted to taking loans from banks and robbing small businesses. After a while, Eshio also began stealing with me, although unwilling at first. Only after I convinced him that this was the only way to completely support his family did he fully invest himself in thieving. For 3 months, he was planning something big. Whenever I asked what he was musing over, he casually replied, "Your birthday present." So, on my 31st birthday, Eshio revealed his plan to rob Mol Bank, one of the largest in our sector. I've never attempted to rob such a large corporation before, but I want to see Eshio through his wife's sickness.

The rest is history. I vaguely remember packing lazerpicks and beamcutters in our gray leather bag. Almost every detail had been precisely calculated, such as the minute when the security guard took a smoke break (It was 9:14 on Mondays). Everything was going smoothly. We had worked our way past the teller's desk after promptly disabling the security cameras and were proceeding to the vaults. As soon as I touched the door to the vault, the alarm rang. I had personally asked Eshio if he had disabled the vault protection beforehand; he confirmed it. Why did the alarm go off?

We were both convicted and sentenced to 20 years in separate prisons. I haven't seen him since. Unfortunately, his wife passed away 4 months after the failed robbery, unable to pay for her own treatment. The kids were sent to a foster home or an orphanage, I can't remember. My existence has been melancholy and monotonous. After recalling my past, I pull the covers a little higher. I finally allow myself to succumb to sleep.