It was trivial, that much the Paramedic had said. Interviews with CID and IA would round out his day. He walked into the house. It was generic, he saw... tan shag carpet, fake oak cabinets in the kitchen and beige wallpaper that looked like it was some kind of grass-textured vinyl. Papers were strewn all over the house, appliances knocked over by the burglars sat at odd angles on the counter-tops and the floor. Drawers stood open everywhere. He had his aluminum clipboard nestled under his good. Which was a black Camaro, I worked so many hours, I forgot what else there was to life. I sped down the street and headed towards my personal hell, or high school, whatever you want to call it. I parked in my usual parking spot, which wasnt too far from the front entrance, but like every other student, I had to walk through the courtyard. Which was filled with girls that couldnt hide their dirty stares, drooling freshman that couldnt get a clue, and the worst, douche bag cat callers. I mean. More

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