reply to post by SulucOhmun
You eventually get thrown into a 6 x 6 cell (solitary confinement) with NOTHING to read, no stimulation, the lights do not turn off at night.
You are denied medical attention, there is an intercom--apparently this is what they do with "sick or hurt people". You press the intercom over and
over, each time begging & crying to a stranger on the other end that you have two broken ribs, a shattered arm, and are having uncontrollable fits of
epilepsy, 100 or so button presses in you realize they don't give the first f*k at all, and just go sit in a corner trembling.
You wake up in said corner, have no idea if you were asleep for a minute or a month but you are just praying that it is morning, what seems like an
eternity passes until your suspicions of morning are confirmed--food slides through a tray in the door, it closes shut quickly. You run up to the
intercom praying someone else is on duty, and again beg, crying, for some medical aid, after 5 or so tries, being refused, the door to your cell
A deputy says "lets go to medical", waiting on a bench a lady from "mental health" "upstairs" walks up and asks "are you ()*)(@*@()*@" you
reply yes. She sits next to you and explains to you that if you press the button for medical attention one more time, that you will be sent upstairs,
where you will be strapped down to a table, not let loose to eat, and pumped full of tranquilizers if you make a fuss. You apologize--and you f*ing
mean it too.
You are dragged back to your tiny cell, the door slams shut behind you. As the door is being shut the deputy says in a mocking tone "I hope you
enjoyed your hour of sanitary and wreck time in the wreck room".
You count 12 meals pass, with no clock and no indication of daylight you count by meals. After about the second day you pretty much think you have
completely lost your mind, and wonder how you could ever return to sanity after this experience. The rotting food trash keeps piling up in your
Eventually days later the door opens, and the deputies escort you to speak with your attorney, five minutes prior to your "quick and speedy trial".
Your attorney (a public defender) laughs at the evidence and says to you "look, they don't have any REAL evidence against you, I RARELY get a case I
can win, please plead not guilty". You inform her that you are in incredible amounts of pain and want to accept their "drug program" plea bargain
so you can get out of this hell hole and get to an emergency room. She helps you fill out the papers.
Your put in another cell, this time it is a 10x10 with about 200 people in it. You stay there for about 8 hours until you get called into a tiny court
room to plead guilty. (they don't hear not guilty pleas here, if you plead not guilty you get to stay in jail for a few months waiting for a trial,
at the time I honestly thought I'd be dead by then.)
After this, you are dragged back to your cell. 8 hours later at midnight you are processed out and set free. You beg your mother or father to drive
you to the emergency room--get diagnosed with a completely shattered arm, two shattered ribs, one of which is in a position to puncture your left
lung. You get pumped full of pain medication, get treatment, go home, go to sleep, wake up, and pray that it was all just a nightmare..
(it wasn't a dream..)
A few months later you go to court, get royally #ed over by a judge, get sentenced to GOVERNMENT mandated religion (its called alcoholics anonymous--I
am an atheist, I am still an atheist years later, and I have never been a problem drug addict etc, outside of this, I haven't even had a single
Oh, it goes on... a month into your "drug program" your in the middle of a 'diversion meeting' and a large black protestant preacher asks you why
you are "not filling out the paperwork he just passed around the room", you explain to him that your hand is shattered and you cant. He kicks you
out of the program, and you get a violation of probation.
I'll stop now, I think you all get the picture.
If you have made it this far, I'd like you to consider (that is if your an American citizen), that your tax dollars paid for my lovely adventure.