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?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm Megan Fox."

"Ha-ha, that's hilarious kid," the man sitting behind the desk said with sarcasm.

"I know, I'm hilarious, dude."

"Tell you what, you answer my questions without sarcastic remarks and you'll be done until one of your parents bail you out."

I let out a lethargic sigh. "Fine."

"Your name?"

"Avery. Avery Duncan."

"Age?"

"17."

"What were you thinking when you arrived at that place at 1:23 in the morning?"

"I was bored so I decided to drive around, and then I came across the building, got out of my car, grabbed this bag," I hold it up as an evidence. "Then I rounded the building and thought the back of the building needed some decorations."

He wrote it down on his notebook. "And?"

"And so I crafted my art using my hands, of course. Then this bodyguard dude popped out of literally, nowhere and told me, 'oh so you were the one doing these graffitis!' Something like that, I mean, couldn't he at least show some gratitude toward me for executing such eye-catching art that can outlast Da Vinci's work?"

The man tried to hide his smile.

"And then he dragged me here. I know, such a sad story," I finished.

"Kid, are you on drugs?" He scrutinized my face.

"Man, seriously? Can you see my face? Do I look I'm doing drugs?"

• • •

Later on I was placed in a holding cell. I hugged my bag to my chest, bored out of my mind. I should've bought something to eat. I sat down on the floor, my legs in front of me. Not even a minute in this place and I already hated it. Curse this day.

"What brought you here?" A voice asked.

"Oh fuck," I said, suddenly startled by the voice. "Dude, you scared the shit out of me."

It was pitch black inside. I obviously could see nothing.

"My bad," he said, not meaning it. "What brought you here?"

"My feet," I answered.

He let out a small laugh. "No, seriously."

"Well I was caught doing graffitis near this police station, I don't know why I could be so stupid sometimes, honestly," I mused. "Is there no light in here?"

The room was lit suddenly and I had to close my eyes due to the sudden brightness.

"There," I followed the voice and saw a guy sitting in the very far corner of the cell. He nodded his head as an acknowledgment. "Tanner."

"Avery."

Let me describe his face to you. He had jet black hair, contrary to the color of his oceanic blue eyes. His jawline was structured perfectly, more structured than my future could ever be. His nose was straight and his cheekbones were screaming, 'I'm a bad boy, I'm a bad boy!' if that ever made sense.

"Enjoying the view?" He asked, tilting his head a little bit.

"Nah, my pug looks better than you," I said. I had no pug, honestly, it was just what my mind told me to tell him.

"I bet your pug looks like you."

Okay, I had no comeback, what the hell.

"What did you do?" I asked him.

His eyebrows shot up. He stared at me blankly. I swore his eyes were like seeing through my soul. "I was doing parkour at a private property, it just so happened that a cop was roaming around."

I nodded my head and stayed silent, his eyes reminded me of Bradley and I hated it. I guess this day was not my day, heck everyday was not my day to be honest.

"Penny for your thoughts?" He said after a while, I looked at him and he was staring back, his head tilted again as though observing me.

"My ex. Uh, he's an ass," I trailed off.

"Oh," he said. "He broke up with you?"

I crossed my legs, hugging my bag tighter. "Nah, I dumped him."

"I see," he nodded his head. "To lighten up your mood, yesterday-at around three in the morning. This anonymous girl called me. I think she drank her ass off and complained about a guy—that was surely not me," he laughed. "She said 'fuck you' and I said fuck you back. It was weird, actually."

I had to bite my lip in order to restrain myself from saying 'shit'. That was me, for sure. I forced out a laugh and said, "Maybe she dialed the wrong number."

What a small world, yet I still haven't came across David Beckham.

"Yeah, for sure," he nodded his head in agreement. "But I kinda wanna know who that girl was. I don't know, maybe I'm just really curious."

Shit, fatherfucker. You didn't need to know who that girl was, Tanner. "I don't think she'll fancy the idea of that, you know. For sure she's humiliated."

Tanner gave me a shrug.

"Wait, why were you even awake by that time?" I asked, curiosity creeping out.

"Insomnia," he answered shortly.

"I see."

"I'm boring you out, aren't I?" He asked with a small smile.

Usually, I would've said something that was associated with thick sarcasm but he looked weary so I chose not to. I shook my head. "Not really, I guess we're just both tired."

"Tanner Hampton, you're free to go," the same guy who interrogated me unlocked the cell. Tanner stood up, giving me a small smile.

"Can I get your number?" He asked.

I tensed. If I gave him my number, he'd found out I was the one who called him. "Um, I can't remember my number. I'm sorry."

He pursed his lips and nodded. "It's fine, hope to see you 'round."

"Bye," I waved and he waved back.

The officer stared at me while locking the cell. "Working fast, I see."

"What the fuck, dude."

"This is your second time this week, Tanner! I swear to God, one more time and I'll have to lock you down," I heard a female voice outside. I presumed it was Tanner's mom.

"This won't happen again, I promise."

"You better, because . . ."

Her voice started to fade as they were coming out of the station. I sighed, Dad was still snoring in his bed, I bet. It would take him a million years to get here.

I pressed my head on the wall, my eyes drooping slowly. But my eyes caught a glance of the watch outside the cell. It was 2:30 AM, the time when my mind wandered off somewhere. It stopped my drowsiness suddenly and my brain drifted to things that let me down.

What if Anna didn't leave me alone to my dad and we were still whole as a family? Would I still be here in this cell? Would I find the attention I was starving for? Would things be different?

What if I was just never born? I wonder what would happen between Anna and dad. I hope they fell in love with each other still. It was, after all, my fault. If only I died inside her womb, dad would still be happy. I wish things turned out distinct from what was occurring right now.

I felt so lonely and desperate to do something. Something that would just make me feel even the slightest happiness. But these things weren't enough, they were never enough.

As I sat on the cemented floor, I thought of the saddest things I could. And somehow, it made me feel better, knowing that the hole in my chest was irrevocable. I realized I was an inept, depressed girl who squandered her time vandalizing private properties. A probably mentally unstable girl who went to parties and drank alcohol in hopes of making the enormous hole in her chest wane. I was ridiculous, but I couldn't stop. I was here now, at least these things that I did made me forget the reality.

I was desperate for some music. I pulled my hair down and closed my eyes, breathing in and out slowly, to calm myself. This was what I did whenever I didn't have my phone with me, it helped.

"Avery Duncan."

I looked up, my eyes readjusting. The officer unlocked the cell and I stood up.

"You're free to go," he said to me and I gave him a mock salute.

"Thanks, dude."

I ambled out of the cell and saw my dad waiting beside the desk, his hair disheveled. He was still in his matching pajamas, talk about being a buff man.

His bleary eyes looked up. It took seconds for his brain to function.

A smile made its way to his face, making his eyes crinkle with slight delight and amusement. "You're doing graffitis? I didn't know you had an artistic side."

I snickered as I hugged him. He was a blessing. My dad always found a way to keep me sane whenever I felt like I was on the brink of turning berserk.

"Thanks, dad," I said through our hug.

"You're my kid, of course I'll bail your ass out even if you decided luring Anna into a death trap."