Essay about Personal Writing - Mistake

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Personal Writing - Mistake

He sat there, eyes locked onto the screen. It cast an eerie glow onto his face, the only source of light in the otherwise dark room. His eyes never moving, he ran his fingers over the keys, hammering them clumsily. The long day at school had taken its toll on him. No one understood him. It filled him with a burning hate. His fellow students avoided him as if he had some sort of hideous abnormality. The teachers picked on him just because he did things differently. Accusing him of cheating, of plagiarism, of copying that woman, his maths teacher had kept him in an hour after school. Upon arriving home he had wisely to go quickly to his room, avoiding contact with his
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After all, it's good to spend time with your friend.

His blue clock with roman numerals sat on the wall, and on his wrist loosely fastened, lay his leather strapped watch. Both ticked menacingly, both swallowed his precious time, both opposed him. As his fingers moved he recalled how he had found this line of work. A single post on a digital bulletin board that read "Make big money by providing a service!". The money had drawn his eyes towards it, and he had read the post with great interest. It had contained a link to an underground site that briefly outlined: how it would be done; how employers could be found; and most importantly, the pay. In small black writing at the bottom had been a small reminder of the risks. He hardly even gave it a second glance.

He had found himself the necessary tools and underground sources, and had taught himself slowly how to do it smoothly. He had started off small at first. Three figured fees had slowly become four figured. These in turn became five figured. He thought of what he did and the word used to describe it. Hacking. What a harsh word he thought. People who didn't understand it thought of it as a bad thing. He thought of it for what it was. An art.

Images, text, password screens all a blur to him, flew across the screen as he typed. It was easy for him. As he watched the blur that was his fingers, he
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