my story, maybe the whole thing will work this time, adivce?

http://answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=20100609153935AA39Syi -part one
http://answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=20100609154535AAXmILQ-part two

the rest:

. "Leslie Sims, the new criminal, and I caught her." He smiled to himself. I decided to correct him. "Actually, even if I was a criminal, which I'm not, then you would have discovered that I was a criminal while you were making the arrest." I spoke proudly. He stared back at be furiously. I was the one with the grin now. "Don't forget to watch the road, officer." Finally, after what felt like an eternity, we arrived at the station. I was pulled out of the car by the cop, and brought into the station. "Alright here's your one phone call opportunity." He spoke.
I quickly dialed the numbers, praying. Please pick up. Please pick up. I thought to myself. Ringggggggggg. Ringggggggggg. Ringggggggggg. "Hey you've reached Emme, not there to pick up the phone now but…" No no no no no! I was crying again. Emme, Emme, Emme, Emme, Emme, I thought to myself again. But my prayers were answered. "Hello?" The voice mail said half way through. "Emme! I have a huge problem!" I was now so happy. "Leslie? Where are you calling from? What's the matter?"
"Emme, I'm calling from jail. I got arrested, I need you to come. I need you to bail me out!" The cop tapped me. "Hold on…" I said to her into the phone. Then I looked back at the cop. "You can't get bailed out for something like this, your call is for a lawyer, and you only get one call." This cop thought he was so smart, already smiling. But I smiled back. "Never mind Emme. I just need your dad to come as my lawyer." Now the cop understood why I was smiling. "I'm sure he'd be more then delighted, but what's going on? Emme sounded worried. "He'll tell you soon enough. Does tomorrow at three sound okay?" I had overheard the cop talking over the phone that my case was at three tomorrow. "Let me check his calendar. Yes! He's free!" she said, not understanding why she was excited. "Perfect. Love you girl." "Love you too!" I put the phone on the receiver.
"Oh I got confused with location." Said the cop. "Next stop, juvenile delinquent center." At least I had a lawyer, that could help me, and that rarely lost a case.
Once we arrived, I had a chance to look around as we walked to the lobby. It was dark, we past the visitor meet area, and most of the kids there were about my age. But soon I lost interest. I began to worry about Elaine. I wanted to leave this place and get her back. Though I had only known her for a few hours, I felt so connected to her.
I was now standing at a cell. Bunk beds in the corner, that was about it other than an orange uniform that I figured, had been tossed on to the top bunk, so wrinkled. I starred at the cop and then back at the outfit. My eyes went back and forth, back and forth. "You want me to wear that?" He nodded, pleased with the hatred in my voice. "Mkay! Glad you guys knew orange was my favorite color." I acted. He was now frowning. "Well bye." I said.
Someone other than a cop walked in behind me, and then the cell door was shut. I turned around, to see no one. Then I looked down. A girl who's head was at about the same spot as my stomach stood there. "Finally!" There was so much joy in her voice to the point where she was crying. "A roommate! Someone to be my friend. The girl hugged my leg, and then stepped back wiping the tears from her eyes. Why had they put me with a girl who seemed no older than eight? She had blonde hair, which was curlier than anyone's hair I had ever seen. She had huge blue eyes, and was wearing a suit just like the one on the top of the bed. "You're my roommate?" I was startled.
"Yes! And guess what? I'll be back with my mommy in three months!" How long had she been here? She stuck out her hand. "I'm Iris and I've been here for two months." She spoke as we shook hands. "I'm Leslie…and I just got here." She giggled. "I know that, silly." Who still named their kid Iris? This had been the most confusing day of my life. "Alright, I'm tired. Can we go to sleep?" Look at yourself. You're asking an eight year old if you can sleep. "Yes we can, lights out is in an hour. Nine O'clock sharp." She sounded as if she was mocking someone. "Okay then. You like top or bottom?"
What was wrong with me today? Why should it be her decision? I guess I didn't really care. "Well your uniform is on the top, but I like to sleep on the top." That worked. "Cool with me." I shrugged and pulled the stupid outfit off the top, and threw it in the corner. "You got to wear that." She warned. "I don't have to do nothing." I was already irritated. "Yes you do." I took a deep breath in, then out. "Oh yeah? Watch this." I walked across the room and spit on the uniform. "There. Now it's clear, I don't have to do nothing." She giggled. "Okay. Goodnight."
As I sat up in the bed, ducking down so I wouldn't hit the top, I thought about everything that had happened today that

Answer by ~mazes~
too long; didn’t read

Answer by Dementia
What is your question?

What do you think? Answer below!

Image by wakingphotolife
Standing in front of her apartment building, she began to count the number of floors that were below her home. She did this by counting each window below it. There were fifteen. In some of them, the lights were still on. She enjoyed these apartments the most because of the silhouettes that would sometimes appear in front of them. For all the others, the lights were off, and the curtains were pulled close. She stood for at least half an hour, on the sidewalk,even after counting, until her cell phone broke her from her focus. She looked at the display. It was her mom. At the same time, the light came on in her kitchen window and she could see her mom’s figure, holding the phone and looking out over the street. Not onto the sidewalk.

She put the phone back into her breast pocket where it lit the interior of her coat with each ring until it stopped ringing and the it became dark again. Upstairs, on the sixteenth floor, the kitchen window light turned off and her mom walked back to her bedroom. She hadn’t wanted to go home, but she felt obligated to, that once in a while, it was a necessity.

There had been an accident on the road earlier. A man crashed his scooter into the front end of a taxi cab at full speed. His body flipped over the handlebars, across the top of the taxi, bounced off the trunk and into the car behind it. The light was green and it was sudden. No way that traffic was able to stop in time to keep the body from being dragged underneath the frame of the second car, even as the driver slammed the brakes. Nothing stops instantaneously. She heard the crunch of the impact, of the body, of the scooter, of the cab. Each sound was distinct and though it happened among many other competing sounds, each was sparse in their placement and delivery. They traveled through the hard plastic shell and padding of her helmet. There was a long silence afterward as everyone tried to assemble and playback what they just witnessed.
"Damn," her boyfriend said. She was on the seat behind him, her arms wrapped around his torso, hands crossed at the wrist, fingers hanging loose and unhinged.

People ignored the traffic lights. Everything was stopped. Even though the light was green, the intersection was still. When the initial flash of the event became an echo, a ringing in the ears, the scooters and cars proceeded through the intersection, driving around the wreckage the second car with the body underneath. Tip toeing.
"Hey, pull over," she said when she felt the vibrations of the scooter getting shoved from neutral to first gear her legs. She tapped the back of his helmet with hers. He extended his arm out to signal a turn, pulled the scooter up over the curb and dropped the kickstand.
"Fuck. Did you just see that?" he said.
The question irritated her. Of course she saw that. Everyone saw that.
She turned towards the people further down the river. They were strolling along the sidewalk, standing by the railing, or on benches. The boats, lit like brothels in their hot pink lights, floated along. Maybe they didn’t see that. But the people here at the intersection did.

The cab driver stepped out. To her, the act was a long process, the opening stage of an evolving choreography. First, the door opened. Then a foot extended down onto the street. Then the second foot. Then the cab driver pulled himself forward, looked at the scooter embedded into the hood, rubbed his forehead and then, with a flourish, turned around to the car behind him. Like the impact, each action was spaced and apart from the others. Distinct and profound in its own wake. Like most cab drivers in the city, his hair was gray and combed into a thinning side part. He wore a blue shirt and khaki trousers. He had taken off his glass and held them at his side. They were silver.

The driver of the second car was already on the street. He had come out as her boyfriend maneuvered his scooter through the pedestrians to where they were now, next to the railing of the bridge. The driver was crouched on his knees and on a cell phone. He looked like a salaried version of death in his black overcoat, black trousers, black shoes and black tie. She had noticed him at first. Unlike the cab driver, there was an air of calm about him. His being there, on the ground, on the cell phone, was very natural. The gracefulness of his crouching, the way he seemed to talk into his phone, pulled her towards him. No nervousness. No exasperation. The body laying on the ground wasn’t keeping him from going home to a wife waiting for dinner to get cold. There was nothing for him to go back to. He was meant to be there crouched on the ground evaluating bodies which found their way underneath his car. She wanted to be the person on the other line.
"Is he breathing?" she would say, "Tell me where you are."
"Yes," he would say, "East Beiping Rd. by the River Ai, next to the Film Archives."
"Don’t move him. We’ll be there right away."
"I know."
In her mind, he sounded majestic.

The body laid still. She was not able to see much of it because of the pool of blood that assembled around the wheel. One arm lay outstretched with a palm facing up. The other arm, was laying horizontally across his waist. He wore a red nylon jacket with black trimmings. She thought this suited him very well. His helmet was still on, but like the wheel, blood had also pooled around it so she could not see his face. What she wanted was to see his face. He had driven headlong into traffic on a green light. Straight into it. It was a deliberate act. He knew exactly what he was doing, what was needed of him in this choreography. In a way, she thought it was an inspirational performance. He sacrificed everything. Gave it his all.

She reached for her boyfriend’s hand and squeezed it.

The cab driver approached the body and the man dressed in black stood up to receive him. Now, interacting with the cab driver, he seemed normal again. Like a man who in a hurry to get home from an inconvenience. She felt let down. He was no longer majestic. At this point, the sound of emergency vehicles could be heard coming towards the scene.
"Hey," her boyfriend said.
She chose not to hear him.
"This isn’t something we should see," he said.
She held his hand tighter and took her helmet off with her free hand. She held the helmet at her side, letting it dangle from the chin strap.
"The poor bastard."
"Don’t call him a bastard."
She let her own hand dangle from his grip.

At her boyfriend’s apartment, they fucked. She was not in the mood but she let the motions carry her. In the beginning of their relationship, she enjoyed pleasing him. It was a curious test to see how far into pleasure she could push him, but after realizing that she did not actually have to do much, and her curiosity satisfied, she just laid down. She took a deep breath, held it, and closed her eyes. Her yellow sneakers rocked against the overhang of his t-shirt. When he came, he shivered as if a bolt of electricity had shot through his body. She wondered if the driver of the scooter felt the same bolt of electricity as he slammed against the cab. After the shivers subsided, he collapsed next to her. One arm around his waist, the other, out stretched towards the edge of the bed, palm facing up towards the ceiling.
She smiled.
"What’s so funny?" he said.
"Nothing."

"What a day huh?" he said. She had fallen asleep. What a day, the question came to her in isolation. He must have talked about something for a long while because it was now three hours after the crash by the river, but she didn’t remember a single word. It was a dreamless nap.

She put her hand on his chest. In situations like this, she loved her boyfriend’s single minded focus and ignorance. "I love you baby. Do you know that?"
"I know. I love you too. My brother’s going to be back soon. I should take you home."
"Why does it matter?"
"Because it’s his apartment not mine."

There was only one purpose for coming to her boyfriend’s brother’s apartment. He was at least five years older than her boyfriend. Into his 30s she guessed. He spoke very little. The first time she met him was by chance. He was on his way to work and they were waiting together to get onto the MRT. Her boyfriend introduced her to him, "This is my girlfriend, Jenny." The brother
took her hand and shook it, though without smiling. And without any other kind of expression, he nodded. What she noticed were his shoes. They were dark brown and polished. At first, she thought they were black and it wasn’t until the train approached and the lights shot in and out through the windows that she realized their secondary nature.

Her mother was waiting for her as she turned the lock on the door. As soon as she stepped inside, the lights in the living room came on. She had hoped to go straight to her bedroom but it never worked out that way. This was another choreography. But this one never evolved. It was a necessity that her mom would be waiting for her as soon she got in. Everything depended on this event. After waking up at five every morning, working all day, she wondered how her mom found the pace to wait for her return every night. Tonight, her mom was in silk pants with an elaborate floral pattern of roses, a robe and smelled of cigarettes. With her arms crossed, she stood by the light switch in the hallway . "Where have you been?" she said.
"I was with Kevin."
"That boy again."
"Yes."
Her mother shook her head and went back to her bedroom for the second time. This time she was honest and told the truth.

She took of her yellow sneakers off and put them into the closet next to the front door. As she did, she felt as if she was forgetting something. When the driver of the scooter hit the cab, she couldn’t remember if one of his shoes had come off. What was it that flew onto the sidewalk? She went into her bedroom and laid down. A rear-view mirror or a shoe? She tried to remember.

North Penn Life Community Datebook: Week of March 25
Books What's happening at the North Wales Area Library, 233 S. Swartley Street, North Wales, PA 19454 215-699-5410 www.northwaleslibrary.org
Read more on North Penn Life

SanDisk 8 GB Class 2 microSDHC Flash Memory Card SDSDQ-008G-A14F

• Tap your phone?s potential – with a higher capacity memory card from SanDisk.
• Load your phone with more fun – by adding room for more photos, music, movies, videos, games
• Never come up short – with plenty of capacity for even large files
• Keep on keeping on – with memory cards that don?t mind being tossed around and moved between phone and
• Ships in Certified Frustration-Free Packaging

SanDisk microSD and microSDHC 2GB* & 4GB mobile memory cards are the trusted brand of for your favorite music and special photos. If you're looking for just enough space to save your favorite music collection and pictures of your grandchildren during their visit to see you, the 2GB or 4GB card is the perfect size convenience and reliability. Uploading videos, photos and music to share with your friends online. Whether you are looking for a large (8GB card) or the most space available (16GB car

List Price: $ 38.99

Price: $ 14.99

www.mobilephonetrackingdevice.com — Discover how to tap a cell or mobile phone to track your kids, partner or employee. Use this tracking software to monitor your kids’ activities; keep track of a cheating spouse, girlfriend or boyfriend; or observe a dishonest employee. Get word-for-word SMS logs of every message sent and received. Track phone numbers from every outgoing and incoming call. See every number (and name) registered in a cell phone’s memory . Locate the exact location of the mobile phone at any time.
Video Rating: 4 / 5