If one gets right down too it, they would find police stations have horrible coffee. I mean, it's bad. As in, "If I drink one more cup of this shit, I may puke all over this waiting room and be forced to clean it up with a toothbrush." So, I drank three.
I wasn't really planning on it- the coffee part, I mean. Mostly the excessive drinking was a result of the impending doom that was in result of my actions. Every time the knot of terror started to get too tight in my stomach, I distracted myself with a mouthful of coffee. It was the only thing that tasted worse than fear.
The officer's going to come in here soon, and I'll be screwed. *Takes sip of coffee.*
Will they beat the truth out of me? *Takes another sip.*
Who am I kidding? They wouldn't beat me- I''m just a teenage vandal.*Sighs*
Or would they? *Downs cup.*
[dedicated to chasing-angels because we love her!]
YOU ARE READING
Keepin' it Real
Teen Fiction"Sometimes I pretend to be normal. But it gets boring. So I go back to being me." -anonymous
