Teens crave trouble and adventure. Just in time for Halloween, Korbyn’s and my birthday falls on the 29th of October.  A sense of eeriness clouds the air because it is extremely close to the spooky holiday.  It made sense to start my first year as a teenager with some form of rebellious act or excitement.  After the risky night of our thirteenth birthday party, there would be no more cravings of trouble and adventure.  

My party consisted of my closest girl and guy friends.  Like any normal birthday party, we engaged in the festivities of eating delightful cake and creamy ice cream, opening gifts, playing games, and simply hanging out.  As soon as the boys left, the girls, Korbyn, Brittany, Lauren, Kaylee, Lizzy, and I decided to continue the celebration.  We sat in the basement, miserable with boredom, as we pondered ways to liven up the party.  The clock struck midnight, and I needed to think of anything so my party was not a complete failure.  A bright idea popped into my thoughts.  Instead of the lame idea of sleeping, throwing toilet paper in towering trees seemed like the answer to our problem.  Well, at the time it did.  “Hey! Let’s go TP!” I exclaimed.

Because we were incapable of driving, Korbyn questioned, “Who could we possibly destroy?  It’s not like we can drive.”

“Doesn’t Dylan live right down the road from you guys?  We are plenty capable of walking,” Brittany answered.
I announced, “He will be our victim.”

Of course, we needed to receive permission from my mom before we pursued our devious plan.  Everyone in my pitch-dark house had drifted sound asleep, so we muted our voices as we tiptoed up two flights of stairs.  As we entered the kitchen, I decided to go on to another flight of stairs to ask the question.  When I reached my parents’ bedroom, I stepped into a train station.  My dad snored soothingly while I nervously asked,  “Mom, can we TP the neighbor’s?”  My dad’s snoring covered my whispering voice, making me repeat myself in a more boisterous tone.  “Mom. Can we please TP the neighbors?”

Like any mother, she had to know every single detail about our quest; however, after I answered all of her questions, she sighed, “I suppose.”

I trotted down the stairs and told my friends the incredible news.  “She gave me the okay!” I declared.

My mother willingly crawled out of bed to drive us to the nearest Kroger to buy fluffy toilet paper.  As we purchased over thirty rolls of toilet paper, the cashier had a sly grin spread across her face because she definitely knew what was about to happen.  She turned to us and warned, “Be safe, ladies.”

When we returned to my house, we opened up each package of toilet paper and dispersed it evenly, so each person had five rolls.  The scent of fall filled the air as we walked three doors down to the house on top of the small hill.   Reaching our destination, we found a silent, dark house and began to throw the rolls.  We didn’t dilly dally around as we hurled roll after roll into the massive emerald trees.  Once I had used all of my rolls, I took a step back and glanced at the snowy sheets of paper rustling through the air as it dangled on the trees.  The scene appeared as white as decorations for a wedding.  We easily made our way back to my house and crept down into the basement.

Because our wishes of adventure were not fully granted, Brittany gave us another exceptional, perilous idea.  “Let’s go back and fork them!  And then we can ding-dong ditch them after!”  Everyone except for Korbyn and Lauren agreed with her, sounding favorable at the time, suggestion. 

“I really don’t want to go,” whined Korbyn. “We may get caught.”

  “Me neither,” Lauren agreed.
 

Brittany screamed, “Party poopers!”

Once again, we scurried up to the kitchen, searched for cheap plastic forks and left.  The house’s vandalized property expressed the same qualities it had before we departed thirty minutes ago.  I opened up the box of plastic forks and prepared to stick one into the dewy ground when suddenly a car gradually drove by.  Stopping into the neighbor’s prickly, pine forest, I gently tilted my head to glance between two trees to detect where the car stopped.  The onyx car had pulled into the house next door.  My heart dropped.  A seven-letter word starting with “S” covered the side of the vehicle.  Sitting behind the wheel was a man in a sheriff’s uniform.  He was a sheriff. 
My voice shook as I softly stuttered to my friends, “Guys, that’s a sheriff.”

In sync, Brittany and Kaylee sputtered, “No way.”

They look frightened like the criminals they soon were going to be.  The officer pulled out of the driveway and leisurely moved toward the house.  Thinking he would continue on the road, he decided to enter the driveway of the vandalized property.  We froze and proceeded to scatter around the massive yard as the sheriff flung his car door open and stepped outside.  Desperately needing to find a way back to my safe house as soon as possible, our first attempt to leave the property did not go as planned.  As soon as we shifted five feet, the sheriff reached into his belt and removed his flashlight, shining it around like the glow of a lighthouse.  Next to a propane tank where Kaylee was already hiding, I sailed airborne in my best superman ready-to-fly position on the ground to provide myself with safety.  That treacherous night I uttered my first cuss word without thinking.  I was in seventh grade.  My heart pounded as loudly as a drum in the marching band, demanding to explode out of my chest.  Making a move, I found Brittany next to the pine trees.  The sheriff crept around to the other side of the house, and as soon as his back faced me I alarmingly whispered, “Run!”  We stupidly sprinted through a ready-to-be harvested, crisp bean field back to my house as we heard the “crunch, crunch” of our every step.  The whole world certainly heard us.

When we reached our destination, we dashed into the garage and stood there for at least five minutes attempting to catch our breath.  After we walked in the door, we looked in the windows to see if the sheriff had any idea where we disappeared.  He was nowhere to be found.  The sick feeling in my stomach disintegrated while my heart returned to a steady beat.  Then, we lingered down to the basement to announce our real adventure to Lauren and Korbyn.  They did not believe what obstacles we encountered, and I still wonder how we possibly escaped.  Today, when Halloween rolls around one of my friends will mention the chilling night of my thirteenth birthday party; however, now I laugh at how much luck we shockingly had.