I had a feeling something big was going to happen. It was two days after my 17th birthday I was still feeling on top of the world. But I couldn’t tell if this feeling was good or not. It was simply weird I don’t know what it was I kinda just brushed it off and started my day. At this point of my life I wasn’t you’re idea of a perfect kid. I rarely went to school I would sit around all day searching for something I didn’t even know what it was, and was on pre-trial for just being a stupid ignorant kid. Everything seemed normal so far the feeling I had in my stomach felt similar to way it feels when I have an anxiety attack, except there wasn’t any anxiety. I hadn’t fully felt this before other then freaking out. I still ate a bowl of Frosted Flakes and started my car and went to school. It was September 25th I remember this date perfectly ironically enough the 26th is my anniversary of sobriety from drugs. So I went to school everything was still normal I had this feeling all day but couldn’t make any connection. First I went to English, then study skills, I found myself in art next, then gym. Still everything was normal I went did work went to the next class, I went to the weight room for gym and continued working on a flower I was painting in art. I ordered Jets pizza with my buddy JP and Scott when I was at legacy full time it was either Jets or Jimmy Johns, I’d rather eat prison food then Legacy’s lunches. Anyway the day was over I went to hangout with my girlfriend of the time I picked her up and we went to my house. At this point I thought I was either just crazy for focusing on this feeling in my stomach all day either that or I thought I made be getting sick. Anyways we ended up passing out she woke me up at one in the morning asking me to take her home because she didn’t have any of her necessities for school the following day. I woke up still with the feeling I ate a tums and took her. I told her I had to get a buzz going before I took her so I drove a lap around my neighborhood once or twice indulging in the practice of hitting the peace pipe. After i drove her and on my way back I was barely functioning between it being one thirty in the morning and my bright idea before we left. I got pulled over two miles from my house. The police officer asked if I had anything illegal on my person I replied “No sir.” which both of us knew was a lie. The first place he looked he found everything he needed to find, keep in mind I freshly turned 17 and was also on pre-trial at the time. I was given the royal treatment, just turned 17 which means I could be tried as an adult so instead of being locked up with kids my age I was with 25 year old men and older, truly great experience. Anyways it’s not that I was scared of the people in there I had been hanging out with those types of people for sometime at this point. I was mainly concerned on a few things first I thought they were going to forget about me sitting in there. Second all I could think about was my mother she was at home sleeping thinking I was in my room she had no idea what had happened. The part of this that really bothers me is she’s still more screwed up about it then me. Every night I get asked where I am and if I’m staying and constantly asked what I’m doing even after a year of sobriety. I don’t blame her at all, I actually really like that because before this incident she didn’t care she was barely a parent to me. But in her defense I didn’t want a parent I wanted to do what I want when I wanted, I tried to act like a 25 year old man at 16. After for sitting for three hours I finally got booked in the normal routine, finger print, mugshot, and set up my phone call. I sat in my cell for an hour pacing wondering if I should even call my mom, eventually I did. Honestly I have never experienced a worse feeling then that. Not many people my age understand the embarrassment of calling your mom the women who looks at you as her innocent baby from jail. I honestly wish they would’ve killed me instead of me making that call. I kept it short telling her the was a box of money under my bed I told her to pull five hundred out and I’ll explain later. Between how scared I was not only for the ass whooping I was going to receive after I posted bail, but just being in a cell with five tatted up Mexicans who could beat the hell out of you with one arm blind folded. Shortly after a new guy was added to my cell his name was Drew Hannibal. I remember him perfectly he was high off of perscription medicine and got picked up for having a warrant. I finally knew why I had that feeling in my stomach all day and I should’ve payed more attention to it. Anyway I started talking to Drew, all of our cell mates were asleep when I got in so I had no one to talk to. He could tell I was scared i asked why he wasn’t he said he had been here before. I realized with all of the things you can adjust from I didn’t want to adjust to going to jail. I ended my criminal life and my night with handcuffs clinched around my wrist trapped in a box like a zoo animal.


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