Go get those pictures
From Create Your Own Story
(Created page with ''''''Being a young teenage girl is tough!'''''<br><br> You really don't want to do this. In fact, you have never wanted to do anything less in your entire life. You think of a…')
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Revision as of 10:25, 22 July 2014
Being a young teenage girl is tough!
You really don't want to do this. In fact, you have never wanted to do anything less in your entire life. You think of all the possible reasons why you should not do this as you clean off your face. You have no idea what's waiting for you once you arrive, but it's not hard to guess what it will involve. Your ass is still in pain from the baton, and you feel like you're going to burst into tears at any moment.
Isn't there anyway out of this? You begin to apply your make-up. You consider calling the cops as you put on your lipstick, but fear the outcome. Even if the cops did stop them, there's no guarantee that the pictures still wouldn't get out. In fact, an argument could be made that you were a willing participate, considering how you look in some of those pictures. Plus, they still have proof of you stealing. The whole reason you did what you did was so that no one would find out about that!
Maybe you could just not go? You hold back your tears as you open up your closet. What's the worse that could happen? Well, for starters, you would be shamed throughout the entire school, known as the town slut, and probably be grounded for the rest of your life. Not an option.
"I can do this," you take a deep breath as you take out a pair of shorts, and a button up shirt. "Just go there, and get those pictures."
Mentally prepared, you check the time. It's five-thirty. Time to get going.
You tell your mom that you're going to a friend's house to work on a school project, and you don't know when you'll be home. She's too busy zoning on the couch to pay you any mind, but that's okay. You really don't feel like talking to her right now anyway.
It's a decent ways away from your house, so you hop on the bus and take it downtown. You manage to find the place without too much trouble; it's a dilapidated house in a poorer part of town. Exactly what you imagine a mall cop living in. You take a deep breath, stifle a sob, and
Requirements: This is a story about a young girl written in second person.
