by Eightball


 [ 741 ] +

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During one cool spring night, me, my older brother (we'll call him Shawn), and some friend's of his (we'll call them Nate and Sam) decide to have some fun. At the time, we were still idiotic kids; they were 15, and I was 12 (alright so admittedly I'm still an idiotic kid).

So we head down towards the local highway, loaded with paintballs and slingshots (and perhaps a carton of eggs, use your imagination). Once dusk hit, we found a nice spot at the edge of the highway, between where a chain-link fence ended and a large sound barrier began; we were virtually undetectable unless you were looking right at the spot. So we're all having adolescent disorderly fun, shooting paintballs at random cars and tossing eggs at big-rigs (I evidently couldn't aim well with those). At this point, Sam has a "brilliant idea" and loads an empty paintball carton full of rocks and wood chippings and lobs it at a car. I didn't see what happened myself, suffice to say the car it hit was a yellow sports car, and Shawn suddenly yelled "Oh shit, you dented it!". Fun laughs for us.

We take a break and retreat to Nate's house, which is quite close to the highway. We're running fairly low on ammunition, so to speak, so we look around for something to use. We find about 24 unopened water bottles, and we realize we can repeat Sam's wonderful move with them. So we head back out and continue our fun at other's expenses. Suddenly, my brother Shawn begins acting anxious. He begins looking behind him, and saying we should leave. The rest of us laugh at him and continue lobbing projectiles. At this point, we're beginning to run out of water bottles, so we begin taking turns RUNNING OUT ONTO THE HIGHWAY to collect them. Yeah, we was teh genius.

Well as it turns out, Shawn was right. Without warning, an incredibly bright light shows up behind us (a park separated the highway and Nate's house). Here is where my brain stops working--at least, malfunctions more than it had been already. All of my thoughts crunch in limbo: "The police?", "OH SHIT!", "I regret coming out here", "Wait maybe it's not the police", "Damn, that banana bread was good", and "Fuck it, I'm getting out of here". At this point I was ducking in a small trenchlike depression on the highway, almost certainly still visible by whoever it was behind the floodlight. But for some reason--I don't know why--I book. I run around the sound barrier and up the highway towards Sam and Nate, who have already began sprinting.

Something I remember, looking back upon this, is that when you're getting chased by the police, you never seem to get tired due to the colossal amounts of adrenaline rushing through you. I caught up to Sam and Nate somehow, but two more squadcars have pulled off of the highway, and officers are already getting out. Bawling like a kindergartener, I get to the ground and comply with whatever the officers tell me to do. We go back around the sound barrier where my brother is sitting there, cuffed and with a strange expression on my face, something like constipation.

They ask for our information and slap us with Disorderly Conduct charges, which really amount to no more than $70-80 fees. However, two offenses means a permanent, public criminal record, which would surely buttfuck our futures. The officers were actually pretty friendly, joking around with us and telling us about similar experiences they've had. But oh boy, did the shit hit the fan after that. Our dad evidently called Nate's dad, looking for us, and he had responded "I don't know where they are, but there are police lights in my backyard". The scolding we received when we got home was so bad that I literally wanted to die (12 years old, remember). It seemed as if they were going to cut off all of our freedoms for a whole year, but again, reflecting upon it, all they really did was yell at us and destroy the slingshots.

Although it's only been 3 years since that incident, I am happy to say that I have matured reasonably since then, and my only unlawful doings are everyday file piracy. In addition, I think I was the only kid in my middle school who could brag about getting arrested (remember, stupid!).