'She said to me/Forget what you thought/ Coz' good girls are bad girls who haven't been caught.'
-Good Girls, 5 Seconds of Summer
My lawyer did no such thing.
The poor thing couldn't defend himself, let alone me. The airport security provided a camera video clip (of the poorest possible quality, by the way) of me and the scanning area crew with my luggage.
And nobody could argue me out of it.
And so, they (the wretched peasants) dragged me to jail.
Well, not jail, exactly. They basically put me in this living room, that looked more like a basement, while they did my records and information and stuff. It basically felt like they were saying 'you were being a very naughty child so now you have to have a time-out session in the corner for ten minutes, okay?'
It was this grey room, with green plastic chairs lined up against the wall almost menacingly. It gave off a really cold, unfriendly feel. Not that rooms were really meant to be unfriendly, but the word was a very apt description for this particular room.
It just gave off this 'you're-unwanted' vibe, you know?
The floor was scuffed cement, with some admittedly interesting things scrawled roughly on the grainy surface ('C + T foreva' scratched in by a clumsy hand) and there was a single pot plant to the right of the entrance.
I sat down on the chair closest to the door and looked at the pot plant.
'So, I guess it's just you and me, buddy.' I nudged the pot half-heartedly with my foot, giving an equally weak fist-pump.
Then I realized it was kinda stupid to be talking to a plant. Which also wasn't even alive, because on closer inspection, I saw that the leaves were fraying threads and felt like polyester material.
My surroundings were dead.
And so was my soul right now, ahahahahahaha.
Jail does weird things to you, I'm sorry.
Suddenly, the door opened and in came my dad.
'Daddy!' I ran towards him, hugging him tight.
'Cassidy Taylor, what have you gotten yourself into this time?' My father pushed me back and held me at arm's length, looking me in the eye as I stared back. His grey irises, much like mine, were swirling with disapproval.
'I didn't do it, why would I jeopardize my own holiday? I was going to see hot boys and eat good food!'
'Hot-'
'Listen, could we skip the talk now? We'll continue later, when we get home, I promise.' I dodged him and started skipping towards the door where he had come in.
'Cassie, what do you mean?'
'What do you mean what do I mean?' I turned to face him, my head to the side in pure and utter confusion.
'When we get home?'
'Uh, plain and simple. We're going back to our house?' I swivelled around again. 'Dad, sometimes I think that your memory is leaving you, because you're aging and all that-'
'Cassidy, we aren't going back.'
That got my attention.
I turned slowly around and my arms flopped uselessly to my sides as my stomach dropped.
YOU ARE READING
Gucci in Juvie
Humor'You're one of us now.' Cassidy Taylor was arrested for a crime she did not commit, which was trying to smuggle a ticking bomb (in her powder blue Gucci handbag) into France while on summer break. The only way that she would be able to get out of ja...