Anarchy

October 6, 2009
By TinyDaisy GOLD, Flat Rock, Michigan
TinyDaisy GOLD, Flat Rock, Michigan
10 articles 0 photos 2 comments

I approach the wall, shaking. I know I look like a complete wimp, but the risk of being caught is too high to not shake. My spiked wristbands are now jiggling under my sleeves. "It's late. Nobody's out. You told yourself you'd do it, now do it!" I tell myself in an attempt to calm down. That is right. I am here to make a point. To leave my mark. To force the passerby to actually consider someone else's point of view. I need to get this done. Those thoughts are enough of a push to drive my hand to shake the can of black spray paint it is holding and press down on the nozzle, slowly and steadily painting a large gray (the black paint obviously is not as strong or dark as it claims to be) circle on the wall I am facing. I pause to roll up the sleeves of my black hoodie while looking over my work so far. I am almost done, though my message is not ready for the public eye. Wait! What was that noise? I jerk my head around, half-expecting to see a police officer behind me. Nothing. Simply my imagination. I remind myself that the fuzz have more important things to check for on a Friday night than a teenager spray painting a symbol on the wall of an abandoned post office, then take a few deep breaths to relax myself and get back to work. I release the black spray paint from my grip as I bend down and take the red can. This is the fun part, I think to myself. I smile as I shake the can. Time to spread the word. "This is for George Bush!" I say to myself while spraying an upside-down V over my gray circle. "And this is for government!" I yell out excitedly, almost a little too loudly, as I finish up with a line going across the design. A, it said. A for Anarchy. Yep, that's what I want. Chaos is what we need, what we deserve! We can make our own choices. We need to have power over ourselves. I gaze up admiringly at my message. I doubt that anyone will even spare a passing glance, now that I think about it. Well, at least it got me fired up. At least I made my mark. I pack up my bag and head home, the grin on my face never fading. Mission Accomplished.


The author's comments:
Written for a writing camp exercise in which we had to choose a piece of graffiti from a wall and write a story about it. I think my choice is pretty obvious XD

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