001. "I fought the law and the law won."

The man in the dark navy blue ran his night stick across every bar of every cell. As it made one last ding, a gray hand reached out to grab it. The man pulled the night stick back instantly and snapped, "Hey! Back up!"

The gray hand retreated and the person inside chuckled.
"I only wanted to ask a question, officer," he purred. The man in navy tapped the stick on his shoulder with a stern look on his face, "Alright, what is it?"

The man behind bars smiled, "I only wanted to ask if it bothered anyone if I sang a little. It gets bland and gray around here. A little music would be good."

The man in navy snorted, "Was that all?" The shadow nodded and smiled, showing grayed teeth. "Whatever floats your boat," said the officer as he shrugged and proceeded down the hall.

The in mate cleared his throat and began taping on his bad frame with knobby fingers.

"I fought the law and the law won! Oh, I fought the law and the law and the law won," his voice echoing through the entire hallway.

"I fought the law and the law won!"

The prisoner sang as the officer chuckled and closed the think metal door, locking everyone who fought the law inside.


002. "You're gonna go there someday."

"Hurry up! We're going to be late!" the woman in the passenger seat yelled. They were a family of three heading over to a friends house for dinner. The couple's darling daughter yawned out loud in the backseat.

The man looked at her through the rearview mirror. "Aw, it looks like someone is getting sleepy," he said while maneavering traffic.

On the right side of them stood a giant building; a highschool that seemed more like a college with it's wide open campus and giant buildings. The woman looked over with deep excitmetn and saddness. She sighed. "You're gonna go there someday," she said looking back at their daughter.

Then the tears came and before the woman could wipe them, the man placed a hand on her leg in a comforting gesture. "She's a strong one. She'll make it," he said and the woman smiled at him.

"I can't wait until that day so I can cry all over again!" she laughed. The man chuckled back as they sped down the highway to reach their friends deadline.


003. "All for one."

Going into this, they anticipated that everyone was going to make it out alive. But in the deep crevices of their sanity, they knew that someone was gonna go down somewhere, sometime. As they strode on, trying to hide emotions, they looked at one another several times; trying to etch their memory into each other's minds so as to not lose their memories.

As the battlefield came into view, they were stopped. Everyone took a quick pause to mentally, physically, and emotionally prepare themselves. They didn't know how long this "war" was going to last, but they knew they were all going to keep fighting until the last soul deterioates.

When the preparing was finished, they looked at one another one last time. Fighting side by side, they kept going and going.

This fighting went on and on until, finally, they had won. Their gray bodies stopped and there was a creeping silence across the way.

They'd won this fight. But what about the next generation? What can they do? The only thing left to do now was to leave stories. Stories about themselves, their past, and all of their hard wills.


004. "The jump."

You never quite notice that you're growing up until you're standing in front of the people you've grown up with since kindergarten in a big gown and cap, diploma in hand. Girls are crying, guys are hugging, and couples are giving some of their last goodbye kisses. The principal you've grown to love is standing at the podium announcing how proud he is of each and every one of you.

Then it hits you: you probably aren't going to see two-thirds of the people standing here. But then you smile knowing that you all grew up together, so you know you'll see them sometime. As all the years went by, with every mistake made and award earned, everyone here is close.

As everyone recieves diplomas, the caps rush up in the air as to congradulate everyone surviving four years of hell. And as everyone looks at the other, they all smile knowing that amoung them could be the next  president, or huge rap artist, photographer, painter, author, engineer, singer, or even the next Bill Gates.

Hands wave to others and they say final goodbyes to their teachers and councelors, opening up a new door to the rest of their lives.