The Warrant, The Judge, My Punishment

This was hanging me over me for 6 months. I needed to deal with it...issue #104

ifOnlyi…could’ve been smarter and held no ego on the night the girls offered to drive me home, knowing I was well over the blood alcohol limit. That’s the night I refused their offer to take me home, and I was arrested for a DUI. It was all EGO! I needed to quit drinking, and I was only 22.

Now that I am back in Southern California, I faced the Warrant and went to the courthouse to face the Judge. I never told the Judge whom I paid all the money to, due to his position in the city. I had no Attorney when I walked into the courtroom. I couldn’t afford one.

There was little I could say or do to defend myself, either. I apologized profusely for my behaviour and hung my head in shame as I expressed my remorse.

The court hearing came about after I was arrested by police officers on a drunk driving charge shortly before my departure to Australia. I had hired a lawyer, who was also a city councilman, and paid him all of my savings, intended for my trip. He told me he would handle everything, and I was good to leave for my trip to Australia with no worries. In the end, he did nothing!

The Judge handed me my punishment:

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• My driver’s license was revoked for six months

• Six months of Community Service to be undertaken at the Police Station.

• Two years’ Probation.

• No alcohol, no drugs. Maintain a clean and sober lifestyle for a minimum of two years.

  

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The Judge shared that he had spoken to the Chief of Police, where I was first held, just over six months earlier, and he agreed to have me work at the station for six months.

After losing my driver's license for six months, I had to rely on the bus or bicycle for transportation everywhere I went. I mostly bicycled to the police station to carry out the terms of my community service. My job was to clean the toilets and kitchen, mop the floors both inside and outside of the cells, and wash and wax all the police cars.

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I was starting a new chapter in my life, content with my punishment, and I was determined to do the best I possibly could. I did a 5-star job at the Police Station, thinking that this too would pass, and my life could be bigger and brighter.

I was 22 when I stopped drinking alcohol. The Future looked Brighter than ever.

I also biked 7.5 miles each way four days every week to visit my little sister in the psychiatric hospital, spending time and catching up on all that had happened while I was in Australia. I had written a few letters to her while I was away, letting her know I loved her and to stay well, along with some updates on my activities.

Visiting my little sister in this place did not feel right and tore at my heart and soul; it was a pain that I had not felt in a while. The last time I felt this same heartache was when I learned a drunk driver had killed my Girlfriend.

Most of the kids there were troubled and showed a hatred for grown-ups or anyone who looked at them the wrong way. Life was not kind to them. Not my sister, though; she had been a gentle soul, but something had changed her after being sent to an elite boarding school in England when she was eleven.

She lived with a family that had connections; their daughter was Princess Diana‘s private secretary, and their other son, Brigadier Greville, later became one of the guards at Buckingham Palace. The ones that stand still for hours on end while tourists photograph and tease them daily.

He later rose to higher and higher ranks within the Military, and he received his CBE after 34 years of service. Greville came to California and lived with us for 6 months before these appointments in the Military.

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Why here? I wondered. The other kids I saw were there for different reasons, not just for attempted suicide, but violence, drugs, and other mayhem that resulted in them being taken away from their families. They were all minors, like my sister, who was 13 at the time. I learned that she would often get into fistfights with other patients. Things she wouldn’t start. At thirteen, she was building and being fueled by violence. This was something I had never seen or heard her EVER do before. This place was madness.

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I was determined to help her get through this; I loved her dearly. She spent nearly a year in the hospital before returning home full-time. It was time for me to step up, grow up, and start anew.

During her hospital stay, she met the man who would become her husband five years later. He was twenty-one years her senior.

All I cared about during this tumultuous time was doing my duty at the Police station and spending quality time with my younger sister to lift her spirits and help her heal. She was very precious to me, and still is to this day.

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ifOnlyi…short stories follow my true-life journey. If you've just found me, you can check out my publication and choose a story of interest or start from # 1.