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Narrative Essay On Probation

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Red and blue lights, someone called me in yet again. Nothing is new about someone calling me in after I run from my parents. A routine has actually been fashioned between me and my parole officer, Ann. The sound of the speaker startles me as I hear Ann’s high pitch voice come booming out, “Alexandra! Come on! Three times in a week? That’s outrageous, so I’m going to extend your probation for another two weeks.” “Come on Ann. Can’t you be cool for once and let me just leave? Just once?” “Sorry honey I can’t do that. Come on let’s get you back home now.” “Fine you can take me back to that atrocious place.” I get into the backseat of the car and pull out my stash of candy bars I keep in there. Not even thinking about it Ann says, “You better
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