Library Folklore.

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>2009, i was 12 or 13 years old.
>Didn't have internet at mums.
>Frequently used the public library.
>One day i needed to dump.
>Got the key to the toilets.
>Walked down the rapey stares of darkness.
>Reached the toilet, anus unbreached.
>Notice that i couldn't swing a cat.
>Throne was in the darkest, dankest, stall in the atleast 7 by 8 ft restroom.
>Thinking i would be safer if i knew what i'd be hovering over.
>Looked around.
>Someone would of noticed the log in the sink sooner than i would've liked.
>Brain storm.
>Notice that this little room has a toilet brush in a tube.
>If the big bang theory played in the UK at the time, Sheldon would be my spirit animal.
>Making sure i had locked the door behind me.
>Still comtemplated how i could explain this situation if the lock fails.
>Dropping jeans.
>There was no going back.
>Removes brush from tube.
>Hovering myjestically, knowing that i am the writer of history.
>Filling half the tube with a brownish/black slush.
>The slow feeling as i push the brush back in, until i'm satisfied that it looked how it was before.
>Collecting myself, i hurry to put the evidence back where i had found it.
>How no one questioned that i had took longer than anyone in the male toilet with the only key.
>Locking the door behind me as i leave.
>I hurry back up the rapey stares.
>Handing in the key before i bolt out of the library.
>Still going over in my mind what i had done.
>My only regret is not sticking around long enough to see the reaction of whoever had to clean the toilets.
>Been back a fews after that to piss in the sink.
>Now 21, i am sure that my acts are the folklore.
>They need to know that i never left.
>They need to know i am still alive.
>Have a criminal record now but should i chance them organising a DNA test?