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What comes next

by Arthur Walton 5 months ago in Teenage years · updated 5 months ago
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I don't find trouble, trouble finds me

Part Deux

So I'm a nightmare now according to you, then does that make you a legitimate monster? Up on your high horse pedestal looking down on me like you care, your nothing more than an imposter. Rather harsh words, in my humble opinion, from a man in his position to articulate; add in the power of being on the bench, what kind of influence does he have with the words he chooses to say. With his fancy vernacular and holier than thou demeanor on full display for all to clearly see; I was openly defiant to his face while full of confidence since I knew I had an ace up my sleeve. Now you may wonder exactly how I was able to remain so calm while facing up to 5 years; rather easily since I knew whan had went down with his secretary quitting and leaving in tears. My lawyer was a very well connected man privy t o conversations happening behind closed doors as well as being alone; such as the Judge telling his secretary how he was going to put on a show and let his intentions known. Leaving her with no choice but to let it become public knowledge in an incriminating report; detailing his unprofessional conduct as well as his abuse of power just appalling his fellow Judges of the court.

Final result was the joke was completely on him on that crisp autumn day; the dog and pony show he put on sealed the fate of his judgement having no bearing or sway. He had bragged to her explaining exactly how he was going to use me and my case; as a springboard to dive in with the sharks and whales, into the elections of a political race. He had predetermined my fate with no regards to me, facts of what went down, or even reading my case; turned out to lucky for me though since it prevented me from becoming a ward of the state. Instead of 5+ years I walked out free nas a bird with plastered to my face a silly sly smile; aware already that I didn't have to worry bout any new charges being brought from this or a retrial. All charges were dropped that day by his superiors along with an apology read aloud; was obviously nothing heart felt for sure but more than could have expected, made me proud. What was done is now done and over with, we must learn from our mistakes we already made; sometimes we want no part of what life gives us rather just give it back or trade. Other times we take it blindly believing it spotless with no apparent flaws; leading to problems such as thinking I could now not be touched by the long arm of the law.

In no time learned this was not reality at all instead just showing my carelessness plus me being a fool; thinking I was immune to charges helped lead me to the decision of no longer going to school. So with more time on my hands meant my earnings swiftly began to multiply; which in turn gave me all I needed for reasons to use to justify. Not going to school as well as in taking away any kind of structure related to my world; doing what I want, when I want, and how I want needed to not get bored. Never considering the outcome of my past action was a really big mistake; may as well have served my freedom to the prosecutor on a dinner plate. Less than a month after all charges related to the gun had been dropped; back in the system I go while during a drug sting operation I got popped. Had nothing to do with the drug operation being conducted at the time; by chance was recognized by an officer while just strolling down the street that night.

Led to me being thrown up against the wall and being searched like I was the A1 prime suspect of the year; soon find myself with my hands cuffed behind my back while on the curb sitting on my rear. Used alot more colorful language while addressing me right there on the spot; letting me know my biggest mistake was where I lived at, especially my certain block. Was my neighbors house being watched to try and build a case for; that led to me being charged with possession of a firearm and possession of schedule 1, 2, and 4. As usual I was loaded down for bare with weed to get you high; cocaine to make you feel like you could fly and xanex bars to bring you down at end of the night. A one stop shop is what we try to be to own the market selling dreams; making money and providing for our Families only way we knew how by serving the fiends. Hustling to survive was part of life but if given a choice not even close to number 1; regardless I knew thanks to the drug operation, my time on the streets was over and done.

Part 3 coming soonoon

Teenage years

About the author

Arthur Walton

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