When I get to school, there's two officers at the entrance that seem to be looking for something. Their eyes meet mine, and my heart sinks to my ass when they start walking to me. I've been caught, haven't I? I'm proved right when one officer reaches for the pair of handcuffs in his belt and begins the speech they're required to make when they arrest someone. "Venus Darwin, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can, and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you." I comply without saying a word, drop my backpack and turn around to let him cuff me. The one officer that hasn't said anything grabs my arm and bag when the cuffs are on, and they both lead me to the car in the front of the school. I can feel all the children's eyes on me, probably wondering what I did to deserve to be arrested. They have no proof it was me. I'm almost an adult legally. Thank god it's not summer yet. I'll be eighteen in June. I stare at the ground until we reach the car, my back pack is in one of the cops hands and thrown up front to the passenger seat. Then I remembered. I forgot to take the paint out.