Lee Eunji's P.O.V

I'm used to the smell of this neighborhood, I've lived here all my life. The stink of pee and aerosol spray paint hung heavily in the air.

I could move away, but I didn't want to leave my neighbors. They practically raised me. I'm an orphan; my mom died giving birth to me. My dad was a cop. He died during a shoot out at a school when I was thirteen. Forced to grow up, I soon learned how to take care of myself. Social Services tried to stick me into a foster home, but I simply ran away. Living on the streets, I've acquired some fighting skills and was the ultimate street fighter by the age of fourteen.

Obviously living on the streets isn't the greatest idea, eventually I had to find a house to live in. Where was I going to get the money? My dad had forced me to sign up for computer classes when I was younger, and he was a cop so I had that going for me. I was also good at fighting. What kind of job would require fighting, police knowledge, and computer skills?

When I was fifteen, an old couple, around late sixties, had offered to take me into their home. I was reluctant, but we eventually figured things out. Things were okay for a while. Until a rich man wanted to buy the building to build a new mall. The couple taking care of me were forced out on the street to face the cold winter. I tried to take care of them but I was only fifteen, what am I supposed to do? No one would hire me, I stink to high heavens. This couple was my only family, but I couldn't protect them.

One day, they were collecting cardboard and recyclables for money. They were crossing the street to meet me when a black a Lincoln hit them. My only family left was hit by a car. I recognized the driver, the same man who forced us out of our home. He continued to drive, not even bothering to call an ambulance. I cried over their bodies. Grandma died from impact but Grandpa held on to my hand tightly. He forced the last of his strength to tell me one thing: "We're sorry we couldn't give you a home." The police refused to help me, since the deceased were just a homeless couple. I hate that man. I hate all rich people. Their greed never ends.

I saw him in the papers, that murderer. He recently auctioned a blood diamond. That smug smile of his face. He spent $30 million on a jewel and I'm eating leftovers from a box. I made up my mind; the only way to beat the rich is to take what's most precious to them: their money. I planned carefully, sneaking in as a housekeeper to count the doors and windows. I used fake paperwork and a random social security number. I scanned the house's security, locks, and exits. I worked there for a month, earning about $1000 from my salary. I didn't have much money, so I couldn't use anything fancy. I had to do everything by hand, the old fashioned way.

I managed to imprint the main maid's house key into a chunk of clay ($3) and made a copy ($1). By using the key, the alarm for the house wasn't triggered. Of course I did all of this with a pair of gloves ($2) on to avoid leaving fingerprints. The diamond was kept in a safe, digital lock. I closed the door after me and headed to the study, where the safe was. Before walking into the study, I sprayed the room with hairspray (5 cans = $30). Aerosol reveals infrared lines. Rich people have too much time on their hands. The lines are too close together for me to slip through. I brushed the alarm panel with cosmetics powder ($26). Fingerprints on 0-3-7-4. I used permutation to figure out the amount of codes I needed to try. I had time, it was only 2AM. The man gets up at 7. After about an hour, I finally got the code: 7034. I did the same for safe, except this took about an hour and a half since it was six digits. My eyes widened when I opened the safe. Stacks of bills, American bills. Each bill was $100 and each stack was about two inches. I shoved all the money into my duffel bag ($20). A red box sat at the back corner of the safe. The Blood Diamond. I shoved that into my bag, too. Before I left, I removed the memory chip from the front door's camera and inserted a prerecorded memory chip ($120) into the monitor. I locked the door and left. This was way too easy.

I couldn't spend a large amount of the money right away, it'd be suspicious. I rented a room at a hotel and bought some new clothes. I only spent a little at a time. I also didn't quit the job right away, people recognized my face. I just half-assed everything so that I'd get fired. During that time, I earned $3000 of salary. With the money I stole and the money I earned, I was able to buy a small house in a ghetto neighborhood. I didn't want to live like the rich. The people here may not be first class fliers, but they put loyalty first. I kept the rest of the money in a bank account and after a year, I sold the diamond. No one knows that I'm a thief - all they're aware of is that I'm an orphan who raised myself. I separated the money I got from selling the diamond into envelopes, one for each of the neighbors, slipping it through their doors. I withdrawed money from my bank and acted like I got one, too. I'm smart, I know.

That was eight years ago. The cops never caught me. I continued my work, becoming famous overtime. I was able to afford better technology and improve my skills. I stole from many wealthy fat cats and donated large amounts to hundreds of charities under Anonymous. I'm number fifteen on the Most Wanted List, only behind serial killers. The police gave me a nickname.

I am Blood Diamond.

Sorry if it's boring, introductory. ):