Jail.
It's 7:30 PM on Thursday night. Yuri takes the Marta (subway) to come see me. We go out to eat to a Chinese restaurant. We get meaningful fortune cookies. We go back to my house to chill at 9. I later drop him off at the Marta so he can get back to GA Tech. It's 12:40 AM. It's dark. I drive back on the highway, get off exit 8- Mansell Road. I listen to my music, don't speed, everything is ok. I turn right onto Haynes Bridge Road. I look in my rearview mirror. There are flashing blue lights. It looks like a truck. A truck with police lights. Perhaps one of those trucks working on the highway at night. It follows me on the dark, single-lane road. Two minutes later the sirens go on. It must be a cop? But why? I was driving well, no violations I could think of. Not speeding, not doing anything wrong. Perhaps it's one of those fake cops? The ones you see on the news- driving cop cars; they pull women over at night, rape them, and then murder them. I'm scared. I don't know what to do. Should I pull over? But it is so dark. If it is a fake cop- I'm dead if I pull over. I immediately call my house from my cell phone. No one answers. I'm 3 neighborhoods away from Josh. I call Josh. "There is a cop behind me. He might be a fake. I'm scared. I'm so scared. Please come outside. Please. I will be there in a minute. I'm so scared. Please come out, help!" I drive slowly, going by all the rules. I stop at Josh's house. I open the door of my car. The cops yells, "COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP!" I do as he says. "DONT MOVE, HANDS UP!" I still do what he says. "GO TO THE BACK OF THE CAR, GET DOWN ON THE GROUND!" I do as he says. As I kneel to the cement of the ground, about to lay, he pushed me from behind. I am down. Down on the ground of the cement. He yells "HANDS BEHIND YOUR BACK!" I do it. I obey everything he says. He points his gun at me. A black pistol pointing straight to my face. It's time for me to die- is what rushes through my head. These will be my last seconds of my life. Right here in front of Josh's house. Outside on the cold pavement of my best friend’s house. He is going to shoot me. He comes closer to me. Handcuffs me. He does it with anger, with fury. The metal handcuffs bruise my wrists; they hurt against the bones of my wrists. He pulls me up with anger. Yells out at me "HAVE YOU BEEN DRINKING?" I answer calmly, yet scared for my life. "No." "ARE THERE DRUGS IN THE CAR?" No. He pushes me to the back of his car. Pushes me in the back and slams the door. I don't hear anything. I see Josh standing. All I can say is "Help. Help me." He obviously does not hear me. There is no sound coming from my mouth. No voice. Only lips moving. Can't Josh just read my lips? He needs to help me. He tries. The cop yells at him. "GET BACK IN THE HOUSE, THIS IS DRUG RELATED!" Josh tries to tell him I'm scared. I'm driving my mother's car. She is an accountant. No one has ever done drugs in our family. The cop doesn't listen, just snarls and yells at him to get back in the house. And there I am. All alone in the back of the cop car. He asks me where my driver’s license is. I tell him it's in my wallet which is inside my purse in the car. He leaves me in the cop car. Searches my whole purse. All my personal belongings. They are mine. He doesn't care. He is harsh, mean, and cold-hearted. He doesn't find the wallet. Of course not. It's in a secret compartment. I could easily show him. But no, he has to dig through everything. All my stuff. Another cop arrives. A quiet man. A follower. I can tell he has empathy. But he is a follower. And so he opens the back of the cop car where I sit, my hands behind my back, in metal handcuffs still hurting my thin wrists. He tells me they cannot find my license in my wallet. I tell him it's in a little compartment, I can show him if he just brings it here. He closes the door. That is the last time he talks to me. I am left with the mean cop. He brings my purse, and in his mean, cold-hearted voice asks me where my license. I tell him. He sees it. He starts to drive, I try to ask the other cop a question before he leaves but he just walks on by. A follower. I don't know what I'm arrested for, why I'm going to jail, or why I've even been pulled over. I finally get the courage to speak. "Sir, can I please call my mom to tell her?" "YOU'RE FRIEND ALREADY CALLED HER” he says. I ask him, "Can you please open the window so I can make sure and ask him?" "HE CALLED HER!" is what he answers back, and he drives off with me helpless. "Sir, what am I going to jail for?" "NOT STOPPING THE VEHICLE WHEN THERE IS A COP BEHIND YOU" "What was I getting pulled over for originally"? "YOU SWITCHED LANES WITHOUT USING YOUR BLINKER." Wow. A good girl like me who has never done anything really worth going to jail for is being put in jail the first time she gets pulled over just because she didn't use a blinker?! Yep. Exactly. And all that rushed through my head is- “I hope this is not a fake cop.” I kept my fingers crossed. Only hoping and praying he was taking me to jail and not to some place where he would beat me, rape me, or murder me. I prayed to God. My one and only God. Please, let me just be taken to jail. And finally we arrived to jail. I was scared. But I was happy. Happy I was alive. Happy it was a real jail, and a real cop. Even though he is the meanest person I have ever encountered in my 18 years. The meanest, angriest man. With no feelings. At least not for others. And so I remained in handcuffs sitting in the back of the car while he entered my license information in on his laptop in the car. I told him why I had not stopped. I told him how scared I was. I was frightened. But he did not care. He said it did not seem like I cared or that I was even scared. I thought to myself, “He would have just loved it if I had cried. That is what he wanted. For me to be scared of him and frightened. And I was scared and frightened. So scared that I could not cry. Too damn scared.” In the same mean, cold-hearted voice he said "YOU CAN TELL THIS IS A REAL COP CAR." That makes no sense. The fake ones on the news look exactly like the real cop cars. That is why people pull over to the fakes! I try reason with him one last time. At least so he understands. I ask him to put himself in my situation. “What if you were a girl, getting pulled over on a dark, one-lane road?” And he snarled at me. His eyes were full of hatred. They had no emotion, no sympathy, and the look in his eyes sent a shiver throughout my body. He finally gets out, opens my door, and we enter the Fulton County Jail. One of the sheriffs looks at me, and asks "what is your age"? I tell him 18. In his eyes I saw a look of disbelief. A small 18 year old girl, being put into jail for this? And yet they enrolled me. Tears started to pour out of my eyes. But I am strong. I don't cry in front of other people. And so I held my tears in as best as I could. A sad, sad look. And as soon as I saw the cell I would be in, I began to cry. Really cry. There was a madwoman in there. A black woman, in her 40s or so, around my height, and going insane inside the cell. Knocking, yelling, cussing, and unrolling the whole roll of toilet paper, and spreading it all over the cell. And so they put me in that cell. I cry. I cry. I no longer care if they see. Those fuckers. Our government, is it really so corrupt? And I began to realize it is. It is. Our government is not a perfect, happy, government that protects and cares for the people. If it was, why would they do this? And as I cried I was searched. I had to unbutton my pants, take off my shoes, and was touched all over. I had nothing on me. And yet they searched me. Touching my legs, my butt, my boobs, and I never felt so disrespected. It's my body, and it's my purse, and my personal belongings. Should they really have the right to do this? And yet they do. Once I was searched, I was allowed to put my shoes back on and my jacket. Good thing, for it was cold in there. I sat on the cold cement bench. It didn't even feel too cold. Actually my body didn't feel much of anything. Only I felt hurt, anger, and disrespect. I was in shock altogether. I cried. The woman sheriff asked me what I was in for. I told her what had happened. I also told her I have never been in trouble before, nor ever had any other tickets. I was simply scared it was a fake cop. I told her my story, and she showed her sympathy. She even called the cop that pulled me over. Told me to tell him why I did not stop. But it was pointless. He did not care just as he never cared. That cold-hearted son of a bitch. I never met someone like this. And so I was stuck there. And I realized our government is corrupt, the system is whack, and even the people who work for the government won't go against the system even if they know there is a mistake in it. They are followers. Isn't the government supposed to have the police to promote safety? Well how is it safe for an eighteen year old girl to get out of her car on a dark road? I simply did what I thought was right, and what my mother had always told me. I did what was safe. I went to where there would be a witness, where there was light. I did not do it to disobey an officer, nor did I do it to break the law. I did it for safety. And here I was in jail; scared, frightened, and crying because I did what I thought was safe. I was punished for it. Harassed for it. The system is corrupt if everyone is a follower, if no one stands up for their rights. Their rights as a citizen, to feel safe. And there I was. In the cell, with the crazy woman who was yelling, cursing, and spreading the toilet paper everywhere. Neither of us talked to each other, we just cried. She cried more then me, and louder, much louder. It made me cry more too. And we cried and we cried. Finally she asked me what I was in for. While both of us cried, I told her my story. She was surprised. She couldn't believe they treated me so badly. She thought she got treated so badly because she was black. I told her no. I was treated just the same. She told me of her story, in a sobby voice (still crying). I began to feel sympathetic towards her. Maybe she was a crazy woman, but indeed she had a lot more heart then the police officer who had put me in. The woman definitely had a lot of problems, but I listened to her. She was drunk; she was arrested at her own house for drinking. Noise disturbance. Her story of her family, and problems made me feel bad for her. She told me I made her feel better. That made me feel better- knowing I actually calmed her down in a way. I stopped crying. She continued. Once she saw me stop crying, she tried to do the same. Not too long after she was called. She left the cell. I was alone. She caused the cops more trouble once she was called and they put her somewhere else. I thought to myself, "why did she have to be so crazy, why couldn't she have stayed calm? At least we could have been in here together. Now I was all alone. In a cold, disgusting cell." I sat all alone. Thought to myself about a lot of things. I thought about people who have to spend their lives in jail. I'd rather be dead. I thought about my boyfriend. How not that long ago we were together, and I had the best time being with him. Not that long ago everything was perfect. And now I'm here in jail. I thought about my best friend. My parents. And then I realized I had to pee. Actually, I had to pee really badly. I stood up. Looked at the toilet. It was gross. I would have to use it in front of them. No way. I sat back down on the concrete bench. But I had to pee really badly. I got up, and knocked on the door of my cell. A cop came. I asked him what time it was, and when I'd be out. It's like they forgot about me. He asked me my case. I told him they had told me I'd be out in an hour. He went to look up me. Came back, and told me they still have to put me in the system, do all the paperwork, and then someone must pay my bond. I felt betrayed. They told me I'd be out in an hour. No one told me about any bond. They said I’d be out in an hour because my parents were already there. But no one would let them see me. Nor could I see them. And so I took some toilet paper, and put it on the seat. I used that disgusting bathroom in front of them. I felt like I was nothing. I felt like I was a piece of shit. All this for not turning on a blinker- my first ticket ever? And that's exactly what it was. I was humiliated and harassed just for that. Just because you are a cop, and have a badge does not mean you have the power to do anything you wish. You are still human. I am human. A cop should not have the power to do anything they wish to do with you. However that is the case pretty much. And I always trusted our government, never had a doubt, until this. This is reality. Reality hit me. Finally they called me up. I waited as they put me in the computer system, then I had my fingerprints taken. They then let me make my one phone call. I called my mom. My best friend Josh answered my mom's cell phone. He was with them. It made me happy to speak to both him and my mom. My mom had already taken out $800, but my bond was $1,200. Josh told me he had talked to Yuri. He called him to tell him I was in jail. Wow my best friend called my boyfriend. I love them both so much. But it's Josh. The bestest friend ever. And Yuri told Josh he could give $500. Yuri borrowed his fraternity brother's car and drove all the way back to Alpharetta with the money. Finally after 3-4 hours of being in jail I was being bailed out. And the three most important people in my life were there to get me out. My mom, Josh, and Yuri. I cannot explain the happiness I had when I found out Josh and Yuri were with my mom. My dad had been there before, but they dropped him off since he was going to work. My parents, my best friend, and boyfriend got me out of this. If it wasn't for Josh, who knows how long I would have been in jail for. My best friend Josh was with my parents the whole time. Only a true best friend would do that. Man my mom even spoke Russian to him even though he's American and doesn't understand it, but he's like part of our family. And Yuri is the best boyfriend. In the time when I would need him the most he also comes just as my parents and Josh. I know I can rely on him. When I got out I was happy to be alive. I couldn't think about the money. I thought that night was the night of my death. I'll never forget that policeman and his gun being pointed at me. I thought he'd shoot, I'd be a goner. Then I thought he was taking me to God knows where. I only prayed he was a real cop. And therefore once I was out, I was happy. Happy to be alive. More then happy to see my mom, Josh, and Yuri. There is not a word that describes how wonderful those 3 people are and how I felt to see them. I told them what I could in the car. We all went back to my house for some hot tea. They drank, I couldn't. My body was adjusting back to normal. For the past 3-4 hours in the jail it had become numb. My legs hurt from the cold bench. Ever since I was little I had leg problems. The coldness of the bench made my legs hurt real badly. My arms still had bruises from the handcuffs. But I was warm, safe, and around the 3 people I love more than anything. After tea my mom went to sleep. Then Yuri drove Josh home. Yuri spent the night at my house. I thought I'd cry the night away, but Yuri was my cure. And I lay in his loving arms, exactly what I needed in order to cure what I had just experienced. In my head I thanked God for having him, Josh, and my parents. My angels.