I’m too young for prison.

 I had never been so scared in my entire life: I thought I would be sent to prison. It was a couple of days after New Year’s Eve and I had loads of firecrackers and fireworks left. 

 I invited my friend Jack and we went to an abandoned supermarket to play with the fires. At first everything was alright: we exploded a couple of chairs and an old machine, and we broke a part of the wall. Then we found an old fire extinguisher and Jack decided to make it explode. I still don’t know how he did it, but he took many of the biggest crackers and fifteen minutes later he shouted at me: “Run!”. We hid behind a column and heard one of the louder explosions ever. We were laughing our heads off. 

 After some seconds of silence, the building started to shake, every time harder and harder. We ran away as fast as we could and only turned back when we were 50 meters away. We couldn’t believe our eyes: the building was coming down in front of us. “We are criminals” Jack said with almost no breath. “There is a policeman there. Run! Run!” I shouted. 

 That night Jack stayed at home but he ate nothing and he didn’t sleep. Neither did I. The next morning, we were watching TV and we were still nervous. We heard at the local news that the supermarket we saw had been demolished the previous day for the construction of a new square: I never felt as relieved as that moment.