Behind Bars

Chapter 2

Hey guys!  Chapter 2 is up :)  Don't forget to comment and vote if you like it!  This book hasn't gotten hardly any feedback at all, so I'm wondering if people just aren't interested in it.  Thanks to the people who commented!  I really appreciate it!  I''m going to continue writing it now because I really like where it's going and I think it has potential.  Enjoy!

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If someone had told me earlier that day that I'd be leaving school in the back of a police car, I would have laughed my head off.  Now here I was.

The handcuffs that had been put on me were digging into my skin, and the seat was hot and lumpy.  Gritting my teeth, I forced myself not to think about how many criminals had sat in this same spot.  I didn't deserve to be sitting here.  I wasn't a criminal!

Nobody bothered to tell me what I was accused of.  They rushed through my Miranda rights, and then dragged me away.  I didn't even bother to protest.  I was too numb to even think right now.  Did they think I was the one who had been hiding all the drugs?

The officer driving didn't offer any comfort.  He had a large, shiny bald head that reflected the sunlight and a bushy mustache.  Finally finding my voice, I squeaked out, "Sir, excuse me."

The police man grunted in response.  I hesitated for a second, before stating boldly, "I didn't do anything wrong.  I don't know what I'm accused of.  I don't know why you pulled me out of class, and sicked your dogs on me, and stole my backpack.  Don't I at least deserve some answers?"  My voice was rising every second, and by the end I was almost yelling.

I seemed to have finally provoked a reaction from the police man, but it wasn't the good kind.  His hands were gripping the wheel tightly, and his mustache appeared to be twitching.

"Don't act like you don't know what you did, you little punk.  That was the largest amount of marijuana I've ever confiscated off of one person.  What's your little excuse?  You didn't know what it was?  Did you just not happen to see it in your backpack?  We caught  you red handed."

His voice was cold and sharp, and I felt myself shiver involuntarily.  I'd never had an adult talk to me in that tone, let alone a police officer.  I stared out the window with a black look on my face, thinking hard.  The things he was saying didn't add up.  Did he think I was some sort of drug dealer or something?  He said they had found it in my backpack, but nobody had been in my backpack except for me.

I was so lost in thought that I didn't even realize we had pulled into the police station.  The grumpy officer got out of his seat and yanked me out of the car.  He led me towards the large cement building, and I realized that this was the first time I'd been in the police station.

It was almost empty in there.  There was a woman sitting behind a desk, who looked like some sort of secretary.  Two plain, wooden chairs sat against the wall.  In the very corner of the room there was a small jail cell.  When I saw the cell, I started shaking uncontrollably.

This was all bringing back horrible memories.  In my mind I could see Jackson being taken away in the police car.  Was this where he'd come after that?  Had my brother stayed in the same cell I was standing next to?

I didn't know how this could be happening to me.  What would my mom say when they called her?

That question was answered about an hour later.  A mix of worry and relief overwhelmed me as I saw her red jeep pull into the parking lot.  They had told me to sit down on one of the wooden chairs while I waited for my mom.  Luckily, they didn't think I was enough of a threat to be kept in the cell, so they had handcuffed me to the chair.