𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥'𝐬 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝟚

Walking home was very peaceful today besides the nagging feeling in my gut that shit is about to go down. Shit is always about to go down in my life, but this felt a little bit different.

I have passed the corner store already, and I can see flashing lights in the distance, but I can't see where. Getting closer to the house, I see about five cop cars parked in the driveway. Panic started to build up in me because maybe all of my crimes have caught up to me, and they are about to put me in juvie. If that is the case, I have one more moment to myself.

Rational thinking was out the door when I stepped out of the house this morning, so these next decisions shouldn't be that surprising.

Good ole me walks toward the back of the house and climbs up to the window. Grabbing onto the window ledge, I look in the window, and no one is there.

So I take my happy ass in there and start packing my bag for an adventure I will indulge on. Grabbing my spray paint that I also stole because I am not of legal age even though I still got my hands on it.

I change my clothes into grey sweatpants and a black crop top with some white air forces and a black jacket. Taking my bag and headphones, I climb back out of the window and walk around till about 9:00 PM. It is completely dark out now, so no backing out. Not that I was going to.

I walk up to the empty courthouse, which I think is odd due to it being, you know, a courthouse. Taking out some spray paint, I start creating my masterpiece.

The smurf turned out pretty dope, in my opinion. My headphones were extremely loud at this point, and I can't hear anything until I see the light shining on me. My first instinct is to hall ass out of there, so I don't get caught.

Remember when I said I know when and when not to make the situation worse. Well, I am not a liar, so I make the executive decision not to run and put my hands up, dropping the cans. I look up, and it is the police. One officer was waving the flashlight in my face. He was in his late 30's with a bit of a belly. He looked constipated from trying to see my figure while he was pointing the flashlight at me.

This may not have been rational thinking. Running from the police would be a brilliant thing to do considering how severely out of breath this man was walking up the courthouse steps.

"Put your hands behind your back. You are under arrest." said the officer. He reaches for his belt and fumbles with the handcuffs for about two minutes. At this point, I should have run. Officer dumbass finally got a handle on himself and pulled out the cuffs and put them on me.

He didn't even read me my rights. What the hell. He shoves me in the back of the cop car like the dumbass he is and closes the door. On the way there, I decided to annoy the fuck out of him since he dared to arrest me.

"Officer, what is your name?" I asked in the nicest voice I can muster up. This dumbass grunts in reply. What the fuck. A grunt, are you serious? I don't speak caveman.

"Officer, what station are you taking me to?" the same answer. This is how the car ride goes for about 7 minutes until we make it to the station. I have made quite a few memories here, most of them very pleasant, if I might add. He gets out and drags me out of the car, and he processes me and all that jazz. Then he shoves me again into a room with a metal chair and table. Throwing these hands was not on the list today, but if he keeps this shit up, I might have to.

I may be digging my own grave, but oh well.

So I am sitting here contemplating my life decisions and shit. Then officer dumbass finally walks in. He sits in front of me, trying to seem intimidating by leaning his arms on the table. The keyword appears, so here I am looking at this burly sweaty man who is unbelievably dumb. Finally, the man speaks, his hot breath filling the whole room.

"Would you like to tell me why you were vandalizing state property?" asked officer dumbass.

I made it seem like she was thinking long and hard about it and then finally answered, "No?" I said with a playful manner. He did not seem pleased, considering the same constipated expression he had was when he first caught me. I had never liked the police or the government because the police don't do shit to the child abusers and pedophiles she has reported while being in foster care.

"What would you tell the judge if the state presses charges?!" he asked like he was talking to a child who just got in trouble. I guess, in a way, he was.

I put on my usual confident smirk on my face and said, "Oops?" That seemed to upset the man more, considering his face got worse. He got out of the room and stormed off, obviously aggravated by my carefree attitude. This was way too much of a good time for me. I felt carefree, and it didn't feel right.

I feel like a little kid in the dark just waiting for the monster from under my bed to eat me alive. Just because I can't see what is about to happen doesn't mean it isn't.

I would soon find out I was right. If I knew what would happen next, I would have run instead of putting my hands up.