Language arts short story final draft

Language arts short story final draft

          12 midnight. I’m ready to roll! I put on my jacket and grabbed my bulging bag filled with cash. Quietly and stealthily, I crept past my parents’ bedroom and went for the door. Then I saw that my father had changed the door lock. However, without panicking and with great skill and experience, I picked open the door with a thin metal a thin malleable metal string and quietly locked the door back again.

          The cold wind slashed my cheeks as I stepped into the streets of Buangkok, Singapore. My hands, feeling the cold air wrapping itself around them, crept into my jackets hand pockets. I glanced left and right to check if anyone around noticed my presence. Content with the silence of the neighborhood, I took my usual routine, walking down the streets to a café “Pleasant Times”. The flash of lightning and the clap of thunder was followed by a heavy downpour. Oh no! Half brisk walking, half running, my mind was racing as this was not the weather I expected.

          I arrived at “Pleasant Times” completely drenched in the cold rain. I knocked on the opaque back door of the café, the main door was locked. A grumpy voice from indoors answered: “Password?” “Leprechaun,” I replied, hoping that the password had not been changed. A satisfying click of the unlocking of the door cleared my doubts. I shuffled into the cold and dark café. A middle-aged man, Dim, sat in the room. “Have you brought the money?” he asked while sipping the glass of beer in his hands. I threw the bag towards the man standing beside Dim. The man opened the bag and counted a total amount of $5000 in the bag. Dim gave me an awkward smile. “5k only? What a shame. I was expecting 10k. Never mind. Go and enjoy these 2 packs of heroin.” Dim said, throwing to me two small plastic packs. My stomach lurched with ecstasy as I received the packs of heroin and hid in one corner of the café.

          In the café “Pleasant Times”, Dim sells the normal stuff that you find in coffee shops in the day, but at night, he was the drug trafficker who sold small packs of heroin at $2500 each.

          As quickly as I could, I gobbled the packs of heroin. Not within a minute, the heroin took its effect. I was on cloud nine and I immediately danced around although there was no background music. After like 1 hour or so, and the effect of heroin had worn off, I decided to end the night. Just as I opened the door and was ready to leave, some 15 strong men armed with guns rushed into the café and the head of the men yelled, “Freeze!” At the same time, the last person in the group pinned me to the ground with a death-threatening guillotine. I felt like I had dropped from cloud nine into the 18 gates of hell and my heart sank. It was the police!

          Within a minute, all the people in the café were nabbed and handcuffed. I was so regretful of my addiction to drugs that tears of remorse streamed down my cheeks all the way to the police station. As I was thrown into jail while watching my parents cry, I waited in the cold, dark cell for myself to be 18 so that I will be dealt will by the law. After that incident, I silently vowed in my heart to myself that I will never touch drugs ever again after I am reincarnated.