A Girl In A Small Town

                                Chapter One
                                The Beginning

        At the beginning, all she could think about was how messed up this whole situation was. Trista, a recent graduate of High School, with her medium brown hair and dark blue eyes, thought to herself as she typed away on the mac computer in her office at the Newspaper. Her fingers told the stories of how many lives she had edited and published for everyone to see. Each callous a deseased reminder of how ungodly cruel her job could be.
        However, the story she now worked diligently on was not of people who didn't deserve to be exposed, but was of those who you would never guess would end up behind bars. Prisoners in the cells they once guarded. How ironic it was to write about. The space on the front page wouldn't be enough to cover the whole story. This small town needed a little bit of true justice, to take the true criminals and hang them high on a tree and for once let those who are innocent pass on by.
        As Trista wrote she began to think about the people imprisoned, arrested for a shoot out and taken to where they belonged to be. How could any one not spit in their direction and bless the Lord Jesus above for taking these perverted ingrates to the grotesque and deminishing hell that they had so many times before taken so many who did not deserve it.
        She stopped for a moment and stretched in her lolling chair. The boss wouldn't buy them decent chairs. They were just as run down and delapitated as everything the office, much like everything in the town. Old and crusted, slow and down right boring was what this old town was. Its unique history covered up by the insaciable urge to bring lies to peoples lips. It was a waste of good dirt. Except for the Florid'ians', or as their known here as the Florid'idiots', becuase of their horrible driving skills. The old running in to the old and killing each other, what an uncannie coiencidence. How would have thought? Maybe if someone with high rank was smart those above 75 would not be driving.
      Trista yawned and patted the top of the computer as she closed the program and stood up. She would finish the paper tomorrow, it didn't go to press until noon wednesday anyway.
        Hopping into her fiance's, nothing but a pile of junk riding off the lot, Dodge Caliber she put the key in, turned it and started the car. She drove of into the wild blue yonder of hell to grab her love and run as fast as she could away. To move or not to move was the question? Trista found herself more than once a day asking herself that very question. If she moved, with her luck the town would clean up an she will wish she hadn't moved. On the other hand, if she didn't it may get worse.
        Investigators said the town would be clean by the end of the week, and the only thing Trista had seen was every drug dealer, con artist, drug user and criminal in the town run, like cockroaches when the lights turned on, to distribute and hide every peice of evidence that would convict them. Some have been caught, and the others are waiting it out like they're waiting out a storm.
        Trista pulled in to the Fire Station drive and started towards the building, when she noticed vehicles she had never seen before. Two cars that were undoubtably undercover agents. What a surprise.  She pulled up and slammed the car in park, honked the horn and waited. After about 5 minutes the door to the building slowly opened and to Trista's shocked amazement, it wasn't just her fiance' that walked out , but also the most horrible thing that she thought she'd ever see.