It Doesnt happen the same way twice.
Written by Lekha Karthikeyan
Dec 12th, 8.40am – The Court Room.
Okay, I’ve never really seen the Oklahoma prison before, but after I heard the verdict, I didn’t want to see it. Not now, not ever. But who am I kidding? Judge Judy was there standing right in front of me accusing me for the five thousand-dollar robbery down at the Rippinks Connecticut’s Bank. (Actually it’s just Pinks Connecticut bank now, cause the R-I-P fell down and some kids used it over their dead dog and the people here are so darn lazy they never cared to replace it)Okay, you probably will think that it’s just a plain old stupid bank that has ATM’s where your card goes in and wham, it’s stuck. Then you call the security guard (who would’ve fallen asleep on that rickety chair listening to baseball reruns on the radio) to come and help you out and all he does is bang on the side of the ATM and shake it up till it coughs up your card and some cash that wasn’t yours which the security guards pushes into his pocket and walks away grumbling cause you actually made him stand up. You’d also think it’s the kind of bank that’s shut all most half the time in the week due its pathetic losses. Well, whoo-hoo you guessed right. It was exactly that type of bank.
And yea, I suppose you would’ve heard this from every second ‘criminal’ that you would’ve met. Well, hear it from me again. I’m innocent. Absolutely. 100%.
Okay, my parents weren’t well to do and all but Hey! Not so bad that I had to steal from a bank to live. My mom was a teacher down at school; my dad owned the town’s Hardware shop. It was pretty hard I guess to manage 4 kids; I mean we didn’t always get the best of clothes, nor did we have laptops and cell phones and Nintendo Wii’s like the other kids but we weren’t pathetically poor either. And we were hungry morons like all the time. Feed us and we’ll come downstairs in 15 minutes and sniff around in the pantry. Oh and we did have to share lot of our milk to Tabby and Kat. (Tabby’s a cat and Kat’s a dog. Poor Kat, if he could hang himself he would. I mean come on! A dog being called Kat!? I secretly feel he gets tormented and traumatized by the dogs down the street. Poor Kat. Thanks to my fairy-crazed sister who’s a bit soft in the head. A Bit soft? A lot actually. I really have got to change his name soon. But we survived. Or umm, I guess they’re still surviving. Me, Juin (Juin as in Jew-Anne. Or just June. Yea ask my mom for weird, she’ll write a book) Mary Keller was ‘past-tense’ for the Keller family.
And as I was saying (God, I can really divert people while talking. That’s cause I’m not talking it’s just that my usual babbling that keeps me from thinking about my problems. That’s a secret no one knows) Judge Judy was there proving how I had committed the crime and that all evidence was pointing to me and that I had no Lawyer and no Alibi (no lawyer, as most of the money in the savings had been used for Kat’s surgery for his dislocated knee. Yea thanks a lot you guys.)
I’d gone from throwing a flowerpot over the bailiff’s head to protesting to pleasing to pleading. And Yayy, now I’d given up. I was sick of it. You’re going to send me to the gallows? Go ahead. At least then I’ll believe that Sunday school teacher who said Jesus was real. Hey, cool I’m going to see Jesus. And that’s partly true because I didn’t steal.
Sadly, Judge Judy had been kind enough (please. Just Please. Judge Judy is the kind of person who wouldn’t think twice to send a misbehaving child to the Jurassic park) to send me to Oklahoma’s Juvenile school so that I will undergo an ‘improvement and development’ program that would ‘transform’ and alter my conduct and behavior. In simplified language, they intend to remodel all my grey matter. Then according to their reports they’ll release me.
