Should've Gone To Bed

t w o

Joshua Anthony Brand as Tanner Hampton

draft saved on dec. 23, 2016. published on jan. 18, 2017—unedited.

warning: i have absolutely no clue about being caught doing these things but i do know they get in jail for doing such things. if ever this was utterly different from what's happening in real life, please ignore and just pretend it's what really happens. i will have to delete your comments if you tried dissing or correcting. any condescending derogatory comments about the way she was sentenced will also have to be deleted.

song: Somewhere Only We Know by Keane

c h a p t e r t w o : graffiti is a work of art

I pulled my hoodie up and started creeping out of the house. It was 1 in the morning and Dad was sleeping peacefully in his room. It was not like he'd chastise me for going out of the house so early in the morning, it was just, for sure he'd bombard me with his questions, which I was not in the mood for answering.

I pulled my car out of the driveway, and drove my way to my destination. It was tranquil and this was when I started being myself. When no one was around, when the noises all ceased to an end, when the road was mine and everyone was fast asleep. I wish it could stay like this. I turned on the radio which was connected to my phone, I played this song entitled Somewhere Only We Know by Keanne.

I walked across, an empty land / I knew the pathway like the back of my hand / I felt the earth, beneath my feet / sat by the river and it made me complete . . .

• • •

I shut my car door and opened the trunk. I hauled my bag full of spray paint and shut the trunk. Running across the street, I felt so much younger and free. Now this, this is what you call having fun.

I halted when I reached the back of the building and pulled out a black spray paint. I shook the can in my hand, thinking of what to write.

Go fuck yourself dude, don't fuck with two girls at the same time. -A

"You were the one doing all these graffitis?!" A voice bellowed.

"Holy fuck," I craned my neck to see a man clad in a bodyguard uniform, holding up a flashlight. "Yo, I need to go."

I ran as fast as I could, I slid my backpack on my shoulders whilst my left hand was still gripping the black spray paint.

I felt a hand pull my bag backwards and I knew I was doomed. Ugh, I really hate Mondays.

"You can't get away this time, kid. You don't know how hard I had to scrub your letterings on the wall every Sunday. Now you're going to jail to learn your lessons."

"Can't we just talk about this shit for a while?" I asked as he continued dragging me toward the police station. "I can pay you, just let me go to my car right over there and this shit will be good as fuck."

"You're too young to curse," he chastised.

"And you're too old for your job," I shot back.

"Shut up."

• • •

"What's your name?"