It seems like a great idea. When consequences don’t come to mind in the first ten seconds any idea is a good one to a thrill seeking delinquent if he’s accompanied by his closest friends.
As long as it’s more fun than the routine boredom we’re constant victims of in this crappy little town.

Whose idea was this anyway?
I’m not so sure it’s the brightest or best thing we could’ve come up with to entertain ourselves. My stomach wouldn’t be in my throat, I wouldn’t be weighed down by my conscience on my shoulders, I wouldn’t be trying to read the desisting voice in the back of my head, I wouldn’t think that every neighbor was watching us, I wouldn’t feel so paranoid and guilty if this was actually a great idea. 

It’s ironic that I have the nerve to complain when there’s nothing for me to do, but now I’m stuck with brooms and mops, cleaning supplies, and spears to pick up trash along the highway and parking lots. I’d much rather be bored. I’m confined to complain about having
nothing fun to do.

Relax. I’m with my best buddies and we do things together. Neither of them wants to get into trouble so why would they suggest anything that would get us into trouble? Boys throw rocks. It’s not a big deal. I’m just along for the ride.

Why are you all grabbing the landscaping rocks? Woah! Those are pretty big and heavy. Wouldn’t Jordan’s mom be mad if those were missing from the immeasurable amount around the house? Those are supposed to make the yard and house look nice. Those could really do
some damage if you throw them hard enough. Especially from David, he’s like the best pitcher in the state. They call him the Rocket for Christ’s sake. I’ll just run around the house and grab some good-sized gravel rocks from the back road.

Even before we got smacked with consequences I felt guilty about throwing rocks at cars. It’s not like I had intentions to make their day better by stoning their vehicles. I was taught to respect people’s property, but I chose not to. I know now what it’s like to work hard for something. And it’s an awful feeling when someone is apathetic towards how hard you worked and steals or breaks whatever it is that you worked for.

We move in silence. Darkness of night is our ally. The adrenaline flowing through my veins is the sole foundation fun at this point. I almost wish we could get caught right now because I know my legs would carry me so fast to outrun consequences.  Then we could laugh about cheating death in the sense that being grounded is being put six feet under. I imagine myself as Snake from Metal Gear Solid or Sam Fischer from Splinter Cell stealthily moving about with my comrades, weapons in hand ready for destruction. We reach our trench and slide in taking cover in the tall grass.  It’s no man’s land ahead of us. Stepping too far into the crossfire in front of the trench will surely get you killed. That’s highway ten, and there’s an ample amount of 80mph speeding targets that will obliterate you if you get in their way.

Who’s going to do it first?  How many rocks do you guys have? Let’s just do this, and get out of here I thought. I wonder if I’m the only one who gets cold feet when it’s crunch time.  “I will,” says David.  *THUNK* Time stops for a second. Just like that with the sound of the rock striking an RV everything stops seeming surreal and I realize- that just happened. He threw the rock, it hit it, and nothing happened.

After realizing what we actually did, and the things that could have happened I was embarrassed to admit that I took part in it. I was embarrassed for my parents because I neglected the values they taught and now people thought I was a criminal. I still am embarrassed that I could do something so careless but I’ve grown up a lot since eighth grade. 

The next rock is thrown *BANG* it sounds like we just dented a door.  Let’s go at the same time. I feel more comfortable as more rocks are thrown. Here we go. *BAM* *t-ting ting* It’s now a strategic competition to time the cars perfectly, making it more interesting.  *BANG* *CRASH* Woah! There’s someone’s window! Laughing as if the thrower of that rock earned the high score by hitting the bullseye. It’s now fire at will.  This one coming has their dome light on. *BAM* *dink dink* There is a look of horror on the passengers face as they jump in their seat startled by the noise at their door.

Is okay to be laughing at these people’s expense? We just scared the hell out of that person. And those other people are going to be pissed at the cost to fix whatever it is we broke.  Imagine driving at night then all of a sudden there’s a huge BANG against your vehicle. What would be going through your mind? At this next car I’m going to throw all the rest of my rocks, this is sketchy I’m done. *BANG* *d-ding ding tink.*

I have to pay 5,000 dollars in restitution for damage. What’s 5,000 dollars? I’ve never even seen that much money at once as an eighth grader. How do I ever get that much money? I truly don’t realize the cost of things in life and how hard you have to work for them. I’m had 200 hours of community service and a lot of chores at home to pay for this and get an idea of earning something with hard work.

It’s nerve racking doing something I know is wrong and getting away with it, and it’s causing me to laugh. Here comes another one *BOOM* Wow, that was a hard throw. Our eyes widen
when the driver turns on his blinker and pulls over to the side of the road. A quarter of a mile down there is a line of cars forming on the shoulder. Holy shit! Let’s get out of here! We’ll go back into the house and take a break. 
After a half hour we’re heading back out to our trench. The rocks I’m holding are to simply give the impression that I want to participate. We look left towards the first oncoming vehicle and *BAM*. We pan our heads to follow as it passes and pulls over to shoulder. There’s flashing red and blue lights now joining the line of cars. The adrenaline kick starts again. I feel like a heat wave slapped me in the face as we all realize we’ve done something really, really bad. I let out a nervous laugh and someone else does too while we’re all sprinting back to the house.  Okay we’re done with that idea. Let’s just stay in the rest of the night and play video games until our parents pick us up.

I regret the things I did that night. A felony as an eighth grader is not a good thing to have on
your record. It’s not a good way to show your character to anyone. There was a baby in one of the cars and one lady was too afraid to ever drive at night again. Spending the rest of the school year and the whole summer doing chores and community service to earn a way to pay back the costs wasn’t an ideal way to spend my time and definitely not worth it. But boys will be boys. We were very lucky we didn’t kill someone or cause an accident. I’ve definitely grown up a lot since then.

Back at home as I’m eating a
late dinner the phone rings and my dad answers. He talks to someone on the other
line about something that doesn’t sound too pleasing to him. Paranoia sinks in
and I’m racing through my mind trying to think of something I did wrong that
could get me in trouble.  The next
day a state trooper was at my house. I don’t throw rocks


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