Post by TFP on Oct 21, 2008 17:17:35 GMT -4
He stays in bed, eyes open, staring up at the white ceiling. His heart is racing, he’s sweating in fear. Each knock is a loud one, with one serious and hoping to startle the person they’re meant for. Sitting up in his bed, he rubs the sleep in his eyes, and looks over at the clock. It’s only 6:45AM. He steps out of bed, slowly walking towards the window, looking out through the thin white curtains. There are two cop cars, four cops. The neighborhood has been told to stay inside their homes, and Davidson knows and is fully aware he’s been caught... figured out. There’s no sense in running, however, it will only make things worse for him. He’s ready to face the music, he’ll surrender, for his own good.
Putting a t-shirt on, he goes down the stairs, calmly and goes to the front door, taking a breath, trying to keep himself cool. The cops look in the door at him and bang at the door. Unlocking the door, they open the door, one of them tackling him to the ground, putting him on his stomach. Hands are put behind his back, he’s cuffed and brought to his feet, taken outside and seated in the backseat of one of the cars.
Cop: “You have the right to reman silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you. Do you understand your rights?”
Davidson: “Yes...”
Nodding his head to Davidson, he orders the Feature Presentation to put his feet inside of the car. The door is slammed shut and the cop sits in the driver's seat, starting the car up, sounding the sirens, then driving off with the other police car tailing him from behind. The neighborhood, neighbors and morning mailman, watch as they see Davidson get driven off downtown to the station.
He rests his head against the window, eyes closed. He knew this was going to happen as soon as he came home last night, he knew he was going to suffer the consequences. There was no point in turning in, even if he had wanted to. They were going to find out it was him, anyways. The liquor store most likely had cameras and without doubt, he was caught on tape. There’s so much evidence used against him in this one, but he’s man enough to do time.
A police officer looks in the mirror, glancing back at Davidson, making sure he’s not trying to make any escape attempts like so many people in cuffs do. He’s not budging, just sitting, being calm. He doesn’t see any reason to add to the already long list of criminal activities he has done in the past twenty-four hours. There are only a couple of things he worries about from all of this trouble with the law: time in jail, possibly keeping him unable to compete at Fans Wrestling Alliance’s Overdrive pay per view, and how this will affect his life in the future.
When the police finally arrive at the station, the backdoor is opened up and Davidson is pulled out. Two cops lead him into the building while two follow behind, making sure he doesn’t make a run for it to freedom, though he would be pretty easy to find. He’s taken into the main office where the Sheriff sits, going over a notepad where it has criminal information on some crime that went on in the city in the past day or two. When the Sheriff sees the four cops and Davidson, he sits back, looking at the cop to Davidson’s right.
Sheriff: “Is this the guy who broke into the liquor store on main street?”
Cop: “Yes, sir.”
Sheriff: “Alright, you stay, but the others can leave.”
Three cops make their exit while the other one stays, taking a seat beside Davidson.
Sheriff: “Name?”
Davidson: “Matt. Davidson.”
He writes the name down.
Sheriff: “Birthdate?”
Davidson: “December 12th, 1976.”
He jots the date down in dd/mm/yyyy form.
Sheriff: “So, mind telling me why you broke into the liquor store?”
Davidson: “Uhh... I wanted a drink, something in the form of liquor. I’m a recovering alcoholic.”
He stares at him, blankly. Standing up, he walks towards Davidson, staring down at him.
Sheriff: “You’re a recovering alcoholic, so you decided to break into a liquor store to help yourself? Are you an idiot or something? Do you realize that because of your stupid, idiotic mistake you cost not only the liquor store money in repairs for the damages done, but you also disrupted the neighborhood with your antics and behaviour? You were on the run, you almost put some of my cops in danger of their lives and you also almost put pedestrians lives at risk with your reckless driving. And your reason for all of that is because you wanted a drink?”
Nodding his head, he looks down at the cuffs that lock his wrists together.
Davidson: “I know it sounds stupid, somewhat hard to believe, but it’s true. I’ve had a past history of substance abuse, drugs and alcohol, and I was clean for a few months - I was doing so well, too. But I gave into the pressure, I bottled underneath it all, and did something I never thought I had to do again. Punishment, anything... I’m sure I’ll get it and I’ll accept what comes my way. Whatever it is.”
The cop puts his hands on his hips, looking at the sheriff.
Cop: “What do you think? AA?”
Sheriff: “He’s going to get more than AA. Here’s something that will be sure to make us happy, and since this guy claims that he’ll accept anything that comes his way, then let’s see how much rights we’re able to take away from him. His right to drive? Gone for ninety days. His car is going to be impounded and won’t be given back to him until his license is given back to him after this suspension. Also, he’ll have to be under house arrest for thirty days except for when he has to work. His boss must be informed of his criminal activity, he’ll have Theft in his permanent record now, too. Alcoholics Anonymous, as you suggested, will happen. You must attend eight sessions of it, once weekly. On top of that, several fines that should be paid in the next thirty days or else you’re facing jail time. Now today, you’ll be sleeping in the cell. It’s morning now, so you have fun making friends.”
Davidson is pulled up by the cop, then he pushes him out of the office, taking him to a cell. The door is unlocked and slid to the side, then Davidson is uncuffed and shoved inside. The door slams behind him and he looks around, only a couple of people are in there right now, one sleeping and the other awakened by the commotion that disturbed him and several others in the jail. All eyes are on him and he just stands there, feeling very unwelcome. He takes a set beside the sink, resting against the wall. His cellmate falls back asleep and Davidson closes his eyes.
Tomorrow, come today.
Putting a t-shirt on, he goes down the stairs, calmly and goes to the front door, taking a breath, trying to keep himself cool. The cops look in the door at him and bang at the door. Unlocking the door, they open the door, one of them tackling him to the ground, putting him on his stomach. Hands are put behind his back, he’s cuffed and brought to his feet, taken outside and seated in the backseat of one of the cars.
Cop: “You have the right to reman silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you. Do you understand your rights?”
Davidson: “Yes...”
Nodding his head to Davidson, he orders the Feature Presentation to put his feet inside of the car. The door is slammed shut and the cop sits in the driver's seat, starting the car up, sounding the sirens, then driving off with the other police car tailing him from behind. The neighborhood, neighbors and morning mailman, watch as they see Davidson get driven off downtown to the station.
He rests his head against the window, eyes closed. He knew this was going to happen as soon as he came home last night, he knew he was going to suffer the consequences. There was no point in turning in, even if he had wanted to. They were going to find out it was him, anyways. The liquor store most likely had cameras and without doubt, he was caught on tape. There’s so much evidence used against him in this one, but he’s man enough to do time.
A police officer looks in the mirror, glancing back at Davidson, making sure he’s not trying to make any escape attempts like so many people in cuffs do. He’s not budging, just sitting, being calm. He doesn’t see any reason to add to the already long list of criminal activities he has done in the past twenty-four hours. There are only a couple of things he worries about from all of this trouble with the law: time in jail, possibly keeping him unable to compete at Fans Wrestling Alliance’s Overdrive pay per view, and how this will affect his life in the future.
When the police finally arrive at the station, the backdoor is opened up and Davidson is pulled out. Two cops lead him into the building while two follow behind, making sure he doesn’t make a run for it to freedom, though he would be pretty easy to find. He’s taken into the main office where the Sheriff sits, going over a notepad where it has criminal information on some crime that went on in the city in the past day or two. When the Sheriff sees the four cops and Davidson, he sits back, looking at the cop to Davidson’s right.
Sheriff: “Is this the guy who broke into the liquor store on main street?”
Cop: “Yes, sir.”
Sheriff: “Alright, you stay, but the others can leave.”
Three cops make their exit while the other one stays, taking a seat beside Davidson.
Sheriff: “Name?”
Davidson: “Matt. Davidson.”
He writes the name down.
Sheriff: “Birthdate?”
Davidson: “December 12th, 1976.”
He jots the date down in dd/mm/yyyy form.
Sheriff: “So, mind telling me why you broke into the liquor store?”
Davidson: “Uhh... I wanted a drink, something in the form of liquor. I’m a recovering alcoholic.”
He stares at him, blankly. Standing up, he walks towards Davidson, staring down at him.
Sheriff: “You’re a recovering alcoholic, so you decided to break into a liquor store to help yourself? Are you an idiot or something? Do you realize that because of your stupid, idiotic mistake you cost not only the liquor store money in repairs for the damages done, but you also disrupted the neighborhood with your antics and behaviour? You were on the run, you almost put some of my cops in danger of their lives and you also almost put pedestrians lives at risk with your reckless driving. And your reason for all of that is because you wanted a drink?”
Nodding his head, he looks down at the cuffs that lock his wrists together.
Davidson: “I know it sounds stupid, somewhat hard to believe, but it’s true. I’ve had a past history of substance abuse, drugs and alcohol, and I was clean for a few months - I was doing so well, too. But I gave into the pressure, I bottled underneath it all, and did something I never thought I had to do again. Punishment, anything... I’m sure I’ll get it and I’ll accept what comes my way. Whatever it is.”
The cop puts his hands on his hips, looking at the sheriff.
Cop: “What do you think? AA?”
Sheriff: “He’s going to get more than AA. Here’s something that will be sure to make us happy, and since this guy claims that he’ll accept anything that comes his way, then let’s see how much rights we’re able to take away from him. His right to drive? Gone for ninety days. His car is going to be impounded and won’t be given back to him until his license is given back to him after this suspension. Also, he’ll have to be under house arrest for thirty days except for when he has to work. His boss must be informed of his criminal activity, he’ll have Theft in his permanent record now, too. Alcoholics Anonymous, as you suggested, will happen. You must attend eight sessions of it, once weekly. On top of that, several fines that should be paid in the next thirty days or else you’re facing jail time. Now today, you’ll be sleeping in the cell. It’s morning now, so you have fun making friends.”
Davidson is pulled up by the cop, then he pushes him out of the office, taking him to a cell. The door is unlocked and slid to the side, then Davidson is uncuffed and shoved inside. The door slams behind him and he looks around, only a couple of people are in there right now, one sleeping and the other awakened by the commotion that disturbed him and several others in the jail. All eyes are on him and he just stands there, feeling very unwelcome. He takes a set beside the sink, resting against the wall. His cellmate falls back asleep and Davidson closes his eyes.
Tomorrow, come today.