I don't actually remember how I got to jail. I remember Mike shouting that he'd be right back, and I remember picking up a firework... I remember the police lights behind me, and turning, squinting into them... falling off the golf cart... There must have been a car ride, me in the back seat... Handcuffs?... But my brain didn't seem to catalogue that memory.
The same things happens during my arraignment.
I know I see a judge.
Please stand. Sit. Approach. Dismissed.
All words that make me feel like a dog, again. I'm glad Garda Girdle isn't listening.
The fluorescent lights are too hot.
I don't know if the back of my hair is brushed.
The judge looks more normal than I thought she would, I remember thinking: if I saw her at the grocery store I wouldn't know what she does... But now I can't remember her face. I can't recall her voice or what she said other than, "Six months."
I'm stuck in here for six months, and the worst part is, as soon as I heard it I was kind of relieved. There was only one thing I wanted to do – and that was use the bathroom.
I wanted to get back on the bowl and talk to Steak.
YOU ARE READING
Only the Moon Watching
RomanceEighteen-year-old Josephina's first day in jail feels like a joke. Her guard's name is Garda Girdle, like she's in a detective novel; the hottest guy (and hottest bit of gossip) is named Steak; her roommate, Shiv, introduces her to the weirdest matc...
