Each day I worked hard at my low-paying job, trying my best to make ends meet. Then the credit card bills arrived. I owed more than $500 and the payments were long overdue. I took a walk to let it slowly slip my mind. I walked around to my Grandma's place, which is often a sanctuary for me to relieve my stress. It was late afternoon when I arrived and was greeted sweetly by my Grandma's loving arms. She welcomed me in and showed me to her small couch, which smelt quite ancient. I wondered if she would ever get around to buying a new one. The thought disappeared when grandma returned with a cup of hot tea. I attempted conversation but with her old age setting in, my Grandma had begun to forget things and repeat herself. My eyes wandered in boredom, resting on some crisp hundred-dollar notes on her shelf. I stared for a while, my mind blank. Then it twigged — money. Those debts had been playing on my mind all day. I don't know what I was thinking at the time, but I saw the answer. I was like a dog staring at a bird, but only seeing a roast piece of meat. I was money hungry, and knowing my Grandmother's forgetful ways, I knew I could get away with it. As she returned the cups to the kitchen I stood quietly, checking that she couldn't see me. As the coast was clear, I sprung for the money, slightly hesitant. But in a hurry I made the split second decision to stash the cash. I pocketed the hundreds, guilt setting in on her return. I began to think of possible scenarios. Maybe I could return it — what if she noticed? Then the thought of my awful bills flickered in my mind. As I tried to make casual chitchat, I could almost feel the notes in my pocket. With my theft weighing heavily on my conscience, I left hurriedly and almost suspiciously. Yes, in the end the stolen money did pay the bills that had constantly nagged me at the back of my mind, but nothing compares to betraying a person who is always there for you. I feel worse than ever now with my Grandmother in hospital recovering from eye surgery. I will somehow make it up to my Grandmother, hopefully. But she could never know what I did.