Short Story Blog Post

High School (Simple Sentence). I (Point of View) am having the time of my life.  Captain of the football team, Prom King, and Student Council President.  I have Division One Football offers overflowing my mailbox. I am living the dream. Things could not be better.

That was five years ago (Pace).  My life has changed now. After my football career collapsed due to my leg injury I decided to join the force and become a detective, following my father’s footsteps. Today is my first case in over two months. I took time off after my partner passed away (Euphemism) in a shooting during our last case. I was devastated. We had been partners for over three years. He was like a brother to me (Simile).  My boss wanted to start me off with an easier case, to get back into things. I am no longer the “Alpha” of the school, I am at the bottom of the food chain (Metaphor).   I am stationed at Westwood Prep in West County, Missouri (Setting), which is in one of the wealthiest neighborhoods in the state. 90% of their families make are in the upper-class (Data). Every student is pampered here. They are all snobs (Generalization).

There are leads about a Fake ID business here at Westwood which is what we are trying to look into. Our top suspect is Kyle Stevens, a senior at Westwood Prep. Stevens, son of mayor Tom Stevens (Periodic Sentence), has established himself as the leader of the school. I inferred this just by the way he holds himself: confident, classy, and a slightly egotistical. It’s (Contraction) going to be hard to fit in as I do not know anyone here. I have no connections. I'm an outsider. I figured that the easiest way to be close with Stevens would to be in all of his classes. Honors Biology, Honors Calculus, Honors English, Gym, Honors Psychology and Honors Spanish. Fantastic (Sarcasm). The academic rigor is going to be the least of my worries however. My main priority (Tautology) is to get close with Kyle, but to do that I need to fit in.

It’s amazing how different high schoolers are then when I was in school. They wear different clothes, say different things, and talk to different people. Who would have thought that jean shorts were back in style?

Walking around the halls, I felt like an outsider. People gave me odd looks, and veered away from me. Typical new kid feeling. My first class was Honors Biology. I spotted The Great Kyle Stevens (Epithet) out right away, sitting in the front of the room. He was with his friends and they were huddled up shoulder to shoulder (Imagery). I was curious as to what they were talking about so I sat behind them. Right as I sat down they turned around simulatneosuly as if they were programmed. “Who the hell are you?” Kyle said. Act natural (Oxymoron), I thought to myself. “Hey, my name is John Fisher, I just moved here from the great city of Chicago (Understatement). “Oh, well welcome to Westwood Prep," said Kyle.  After class, I saw Kyle and his friends walk into an empty class room. They closed the door behind them. A few moments later a few underclassman lined up outside the room. One by one they were let into the room and escorted out. Interesting. Curious, I approached one of the underclassman. “What are you in line for?” I asked. “None of your business” he replied abruptly.  Something was up. I may have a lead here.

To see where it took me, I stood in line, skipping calculus. This could be big for my career. After a few minutes, it was my turn to go in, my turn to catch the kids, and my turn to get break the case (Antanaclasis). The door opened, with Kyle’s body blocking the door and preventing me from seeing the room (Loose (paratactic) Sentence). “What are you doing here?” he said arrogantly. “Uhh, I, uh, was just wondering what this line was about,” I said nervously. “Don’t worry about,” he said as he slammed the door.

After school that day, I ran back to the station and told my boss about what happened. He was pleased. “Get in that room before school tomorrow and see what the layout is, investigate,” he said. I was ready to break the case.

The next morning I showed up to school half an hour early. I went to Room 220 (the place the incident occurred the day before) (Parentheses). The door was locked. There must be another way in. I walked around back to see if there was an open window. Nothing. At this point students were starting to arrive. Time was limited (Climbing the Ladder). I rushed back into school and walked by the classroom. I peeked in and saw Kyle and his friends scattered around the room, carrying boxes. I need to get in there. RIINNNGGGG!!! (Onomatopoeia), the bell sounded causing the halls to fill in franticly (Imagery). I could hear Kyle and his friends scurrying around the classroom. Before I knew it they were out in the hall, without even acknowledging me. I stuck my foot in the door before it closed. Once the halls cleared, I entered the room, fingers crossed. Bingo (Climax). Equipment everywhere. Plenty of evidence. Case over.

Within minutes the law enforcement had shown up, and detained Kyle and his friends. MAYOR’S SON KYLE STEVENS BUSTED FOR IDENTIFICATION FRAUD, the papers headlined the next morning. I was back in the game.

Fin