I Get Arrested: Part 1



It was a cool Friday night in late September. Not too cool, but just enough to have to wear a hoodie. My hoodie that night was a black zip-up one from American Eagle, matched with my dark blue Levis jeans and my black Etnies which I liked to wear loose. It was a little past eleven, and I decided to skate up to Palton Park to meet my friend Ryan since I was bored out my mind anyway. I grabbed my skateboard and made my way to the park.

When I arrived at the park, Ryan was already there, skating on a tennis court. Ryan looked like a typical skater kid with shaggy brown hair. He was dressed in a gray hoodie, blue jeans, and white Etnies skate shoes. We knew the parked closed at 10, but we had done this many times in the past without a problem. "What's up?" I asked, greeting my friend.

"Not much, man, just working on some tricks," Ryan replied. "You down?"

"Sure," I replied, tossing down my skateboard and hopping on. Ryan was a pretty good skateboarder, but I wasn't so bad myself. We spent the next half hour or so working on kickflips, ollies, and even grinding on the curb that surrounded the court. We were trying to compete with each other, but it remained friendly. Ryan was a cool kid, and was one of my best friends.

"Dude, watch me railside this curb," I told Ryan, grabbing my skateboard.

"You're gonna kill yourself," Ryan replied.

"Well, we all gotta die sometime," I said, exhaling. I threw down my skateboard, jumped on, and my made my way toward the curb. I jumped and started making my way along the curb, trying to maintain my balance. As I was working, a spotlight shined on me and while I lost my balance, I was able to jump off and land on my feet, while my skateboard went flying.

"It's the cops, run!" Ryan shouted, as he threw his skateboard down and started bolting. I started to run as well, and upon leaving the court, ran in the opposite direction of Ryan. I admit, it was a stupid mistake to run, but the trick, spotlight, and Ryan's reaction got my adrenaline going and I took off. It was also really stupid, on my part, to run in the direction that the cop car was facing. The cop car started following me, but I ran further off the road and picked up speed. The cop car stopped, and I heard a door open. I stayed out of the light, and ducked behind some bushes, keeping as quiet as possible. I heard footsteps getting louder, but they weren't headed in my direction.

I was trying to keep as quiet and still as possible, but my breathing after running so fast and so unexpectedly was pretty heavy. I lost my breath, however, when I had a flashlight shine on my face. "Don't move!" I heard the cop shout. I turned my head slightly to see a gun pointing at me. From my crouching position, I slowly raised my hands to the level of my head. "Turn away from me, and get down on the ground, face down, do it now!" he commanded. I dropped my knee, turned to the right, and laid down on the groud, placing my hands behind me. "Cross your ankles," he told me, and I complied with his order. I heard him put his gun away and then heard a button unsnap. He knelt down on top of me, and I felt the cold steel as he handcuffed my hands together with my palms facing outward.

"Get up," he told me, as he grabbed my arm, brought me up to my knees, and then to my feet. He continued holding my arm as he quickly walked me to where the cop car was. He was walking so fast that I was having a hard time keeping up because I was trying to keep my loose Etnies on my feet. When we arrived to the car, he pushed me on top of the hood, grabbed the chain of my handcuffs, and started searching the back pockets of my Levis. Finding nothing, he patted down each leg of my Levis down to my shoes. He pulled me back up, came in front of me, and unzipped my hoodie, feeling along my chest, stomach, and arms. "What are you running for?" he asked me.

"I just got scared," I replied, as another cop car came driving up.

"Where are the drugs?" the cop asked me, as he started searching my front jean pockets, pulling out some money and the keys to my house.

"I don't have any man, I swear, I just got scared and ran," I told him, as he patted down around my junk.

"I don't believe you," he replied. "Kick your shoes off." Since I was handcuffed, I used my feet to take my shoes off, exposing my black Nike socks which hit the pavement. "Turn and face the car," he told me, as the cop in the new car came approaching. I did as I was told, and the cop picked up my shoes and started searching through them. Finding nothing in each of them, he placed them on the hood and came back behind me. "Lift your right foot behind you." I brought my foot back to his direction, and he felt along the top of my sock and then along the ankle down to my toes. "Left foot now," he commanded. I brought my right foot down, and did the same with the left foot, he repeating the search as well.

"You seriously don't have any drugs on you?" he asked.

"No, I told you that," I replied.

"Then why did you run? You were just trespassing, we would have let you off with a warning. But now, since you ran, you're going to jail. Wilson," he said to the new cop, "grab the leg cuffs, we don't want him running any more tonight." The cop walked to the trunk of his car and opened it, while I was led down onto my knees along side of the cop car. The cop handed the legirons to the arresting officer, and I felt him apply them around my socked ankles. "I'm going to double lock these so they don't get too tight," he told me as he did so. "I'm going to do the same for your handcuffs as well," he said as he lifted me onto my feet.

He double locked the handcuffs, and then opened the door to the cop car. "Watch your head as you get inside," he told me, keeping his hand on my head so it woudln't hit. I sat down in the back seat, which had a spot for my handcuffed hands to be somewhat comfortable in. Through the winshield, he grabbed my shoes and got into the driver's seat, placing my shoes on the passenger seat. He then put the car in drive, driving me towards the police station.

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