The CHHS football field is crowded for Meet the Mustangs. Even with the sun hidden, chaos is the element, waiting to strike like snakes. And I’m there too. Waiting. Watching.

Two weeks of journalism have turned me into a nocturnal animal. I must choose my reports carefully. It’s a big school. I can’t write about everything.

I wish I could say I’m making a difference, but I’m not. No breakfast, no vending machines, no phones allowed at lunch. This school’s eating itself up. Maybe it can’t be saved, but I must try. One case at a time.

The Q-tips.

Thursday, August 17th.

Seven perfectly clean, unused Q-tips were found lying on the football field. My partner and I are immediately intrigued by this mystery. Questions are asked, and everyone in the perimeter is automatically a suspect. Dead end after dead end with everyone we interviewed until finally we got a lead.

Maddie Fowler, part of The Pony Express and MTV staff, was on duty recording the players out on the field. She was able to give us a lead. According to her, the Q-tips couldn’t have been there long, which narrowed it down to one sports team—cheer.

Cheer had been the first sports team to arrive on the field that afternoon. Keeping the new info in mind, Guerrero and I interviewed every cheerleader. Nothing. Not a single one admitted to the crime. Disappointed, my partner and I called it a day.

Friday, August 18th.

Fourteen hours have officially passed since the incident took place. Sleepless, my partner and I were going over all the details again, examining all the voice memos we had recorded. When suddenly, sophomore Alfeenah Prather entered the discussion. She claimed she knew who was responsible for the crime. Paige.  Sophomore Paige Sims was the one behind everything. It had been her Q-tips that had been dropped that day at Meet the Mustangs.

CHHS’s no littering policy is in effect, but the criminal element never sleeps. I can already see things will get worse before they get better. I’m starting to see now I have had an effect here… but not the one I intended. I have to become more. Students need hope. To know someone’s out there for them. This school’s angry, scared. Like me. But I have to try.