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Description
"Nothing's going to happen, you know."

I tore my gaze from my target to glance at my comrade, who stood across the room. He grinned back at me. "How do you know?"

"How would anyone even find out? I'm sure tons of people have done it." His grin widened. "You scared?"

"No," I replied, probably a bit too hastily. "I just don't trust you."

"Just because it says it's illegal to doesn't mean you can't."

"Fine. I'll do it." I strode purposefully across the room. Grabbing hold of my unwary target, I snapped my arm back, hearing the tearing noise as it echoed through the room. The deed was done. Disgusted with myself, I let the offending material drop from my hand.

He picked it up. "See? No big deal."

"Easy for you to say, you only had to watch. Let's get out of here."

"I told you nothing would hap--" His words died in his throat as the windows in the room abruptly shattered, like a child's dreams after finding out that Santa doesn't exist. Smoke filled the room, billowing out of the small canisters that had been tossed through the glass.

"Tear gas!" I choked out. I stumbled wildly towards the door, but he got there first, which was probably better for my sake since the door was kicked down just as his hand grasped the knob. He died under the weight of a door and about five burly SWAT team men. At least, I think they were men. They were burly, anyway. In a burst of panic, I leapt out of one of the broken windows. It was only after my graceful face-first landing onto a mulberry bush (and the weasel hiding inside it) that I remembered the fact that the room we'd rented was on the fourteenth floor. I stood up, swatting away the pesky laws of physics that swarmed my head, and made my way to the river.

Description
"Nothing's going to happen, you know."

I tore my gaze from my target to glance at my comrade, who stood across the room. He grinned back at me. "How do you know?"

"How would anyone even find out? I'm sure tons of people have done it." His grin widened. "You scared?"

"No," I replied, probably a bit too hastily. "I just don't trust you."

"Just because it says it's illegal to doesn't mean you can't."

"Fine. I'll do it." I strode purposefully across the room. Grabbing hold of my unwary target, I snapped my arm back, hearing the tearing noise as it echoed through the room. The deed was done. Disgusted with myself, I let the offending material drop from my hand.

He picked it up. "See? No big deal."

"Easy for you to say, you only had to watch. Let's get out of here."

"I told you nothing would hap--" His words died in his throat as the windows in the room abruptly shattered, like a child's dreams after finding out that Santa doesn't exist. Smoke filled the room, billowing out of the small canisters that had been tossed through the glass.

"Tear gas!" I choked out. I stumbled wildly towards the door, but he got there first, which was probably better for my sake since the door was kicked down just as his hand grasped the knob. He died under the weight of a door and about five burly SWAT team men. At least, I think they were men. They were burly, anyway. In a burst of panic, I leapt out of one of the broken windows. It was only after my graceful face-first landing onto a mulberry bush (and the weasel hiding inside it) that I remembered the fact that the room we'd rented was on the fourteenth floor. I stood up, swatting away the pesky laws of physics that swarmed my head, and made my way to the river.