Mugshot • JB

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"Please tell me that you're seriously not doing this."

"I seriously am." With a wide smirk on my face, I part my feet on the ground and tighten the grip around my father's damn golf club, waiting for the perfect time to strike. I have been planning this whole weekend ever since he left me for the school skank, Ally Reyes. I wanted to gauge my eyes out of their sockets when I saw them together in his fraternity room, pleasuring her in every way possible. I never really had intense anger issues, but at that very moment, I wanted to grab her extensions and sell the fucking bunch on eBay. "And if you don't want to watch, then leave. Otherwise, stay. Do remember that you can't say or do anything that would change my mind."

I can imagine my best friend rolling her brown eyes at me. "Sloane, it's not worth it. Everyone knows what Jack did to you. Isn't that enough?" I have been asking myself the same thing, but even if it was enough, I would still be standing in front of his parents' house with a golf club in my hand and an entire row of rotten eggs that are ready to crash and corrupt Mrs. Peterson's doilies and Mr. Peterson's garage.

"Just go, Janna. I want to let off some steam." I actually thought she would disapprove and stay with me, but shockingly, I could hear her footsteps clattering, walking away, and slowly disappearing behind me. I'm not changing my mind, I think, I'm still doing this.What he did to me was beyond painful and I wouldn't want someone else to feel this way.

I raise the golf club in mid-air and hit one of the rotten eggs, watching it as it rolled around in the air before leaving a mark on the Peterson's newly painted window. I laugh, smiling at myself as I hit another one, then another, and another. One of the rooms in the house lights up and the sound of Mrs. Peterson freaking out fills my ears. I ignore the rumbling and continue to strike, consuming the eggs until they are all gone. He would be so pissed, I think and smile at the thought.

Next thing I know, I see a mixture of red and blue lights coming from the corner of the street. I turn my head around and see a police car making its way towards me. I drop the golf club beside me and make the run, attempting an escape when I feel someone's arms wrap around me, and we both end up on being thrown harshly against the grass. "LAPD," he ID'ed himself, as if I hadn't already known. "You are under arrest for destruction of private property. . ." and he went on.

I did not bother listening to whatever else he had to say. I felt him grab my wrists and pull them behind my back before cuffing them, and I could only think of this: why do the police arrest those who have committed physical crimes? Aren't they as cruel as emotional crimes?

"Like trashing houses, eh?" he murmurs against my ear, making the hair on my arms stand. I try to turn my head away, but he holds it in place. I didn't even notice another officer walking towards me until he spoke up and pushed his partner away. "Shut up, Smith."

"Oh, come on, Bieber. I'm just having some fun," the other officer replies, making me cringe.

"I think the chief has another definition for 'fun'." Officer Bieber grabs my arm and pulls me towards him. His touch, however, is more light, even gentle. His grip on me isn't too loose that I would be able to run away from him, and it isn't too tight that I would feel any sort of pain. I look up at him and meet his eyes for a brief second and quickly turn away. He makes me sit down behind him before he slips inside the car himself.

And before his partner hops in the car with us, he whispers, "You shouldn't have done that."

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if this chapter doesn't kill you, i hope the gif does!