It was November 26th, 1929. The great depression. My family and I are barely making it out alive. I sit and watch my wife and starving children slowly lose their color as each day goes by. The days seem to be getting darker and darker as more riots begin. The sky seems more gray. The trees look dead. Everyone that walks past my window looks pale. It broke my heart to see my once cheerful neighbors so down and dead. We are all surviving off bread and canned goods. But not much is left. Stores have been sold out. Markets  have been cleared of everything to find. As im in deep thought I look over to my family. Barely breathing, sad, hurt. I cant find a job to support my family anymore. I look out the window at all the empty building but one that seems to stand out most is the bank. Dozens of people lined up to get money that isn't there for them. Then I think. What if someone broke into the bank and stole the money. I use to work for the bank so I would know all the tips and tricks to getting in and out. I thought my plan over thousands of times and knew this was the right thing to do if I wanted to survive. November 30th 1929. Today's the day. It was roughly 1:30a.m and I was going to make the jump. I leave my house with swift movements as my heart begins to race. I look across the street. And no one was to be seen. Perfect I thought to myself. I run to the back of the bank and smash in a window to get inside. Unlocking the door i go to the vault. The passcode was a little blurry to me but after a couple of tries I got it. The door opening was like a light shining down from heaven. I grab the stacks of cash and put it into my bag and run out the bag grabbing only what I could carry. I run home and hide the bad in my closet and go to sleep. Tomorrow would be a good day. November 31st 1929. I run outside and start throwing money in the air like it was raining. Dozens of people run to me grabbing what they can. The police are running my way. I throw the rest of the money on the ground and never stop running.