Drugs, Girls, Crime, Prison, University & Near Deaths (DGCPUND) Part 1

I started smoking cannabis from a young age. I remember the first time like it was yesterday. On an empty train with my friend heading back home. We both stood at the end of the carriage, heads out of the sliding windows, puffing the smoke. We coughed many times, our virgin lungs did not recognise what we were inhaling. It was becoming very popular amongst teens and most of my friends had already tried it. I didn't know it would lead to a long term addiction. We laughed for hours and ended the night throwing up, but what an experience it was. I was a 14 year old teenager with an over protective mother. A single over protective mother. I could hear her words in my head "cannabis will kill you and you will end up brainless". Wise words from an immigrant mother of two. She only brought us to the UK for a better life. Back home in Iran this place is some sort of magical island. Everyone thinks the Queen is walking around the city shaking hands. How deluded are they. In reality things are very different. This place has it's own share of struggles. Almost 70 million people cramped into a small area of land, but a land of opportunity nonetheless. Humans are valued over here. We have rights, and promised an equal chance to make something out of ourselves. In Iran you are just a number. Forced into behaving Islamic, even if you are not enlightened by Islam. From my understanding, the leaders just want us to follow the right path. A path which would lead us to heaven, as they keep preaching to us. A theological regime with the aims of controlling the people in order for them to benefit. The true definition of eternal freedom, god consciousness. Unfortunately that system does not benefit everyone. People end up hating Islam instead, as they feel like they can't think and act for themselves. They feel forced to do certain things in order to come across religious. The females all have to wear headscarf, not something they practice properly. Most times the headscarf is just about covering their hair. The men have to behave morally correct in order to represent the core principles of the clerics. Live as the prophets of Islam may have lived. I took a deep hit of the cannabis joint waiting for death to come for me. "Cannabis will kill you" still ringing in my ears. I felt a pounding sensation in my chest. Sweat was dripping down my forehead. I saw my reflection in the window of a car, I looked pale. Maybe she is right. Maybe I am going to die.

Of course that was not true. I guess she just wanted me to avoid it as much as possible. Her experience of the drug was not pleasant, from my understanding. They say that cannabis is a spiritual drug. It opens your third eye and you see the world in a lighter sense. That is not the case for everyone as I later discovered. I started smoking one shared joint a day. Me and my friend laughing for hours and playing video games. Both of us with red eyes staring at the TV intrigued by every movement of the game. It felt like I got better at everything. Everything became more exciting, films became 3D. I felt the emotions of the different characters. A below average movie became a blockbuster. Normal activities turned entertaining. Cleaning my room was no longer a chore, it became a challenging yet entertaining task. It was only right to up the dosage and start buying in larger amounts. A ten bag a day, then a twenty bag. I could barely eat or sleep without smoking one. The burnt out ashtray on the side of my bed would contain a half spliff when I woke up. I would light it and hit the shower. The sensation of the hot water beating against my back, relaxing my muscles. My senses allowed me to feel everything more intensely. I would then ignite another 2 or 3 throughout the day and one before dozing off at night. Not to mention a few half hits shared amongst friends. Maybe I should start selling this stuff? I thought to myself, and that's exactly what we did. It was providing me with a free supply and I made money off it too.

I had left my mothers house due to personal problems and moved into a temporary accommodation provided by the local council. A 10x5 meter room with dark blue curtains, wooden floors and a damp atmosphere. A single bed at the end of the room near a window, facing the main road right opposite an Aldi supermarket. I only moved out of home because I could not cope with her over protectiveness. I could barely breathe without interference. I loved her to bits. She provided everything we needed. She worked very hard for us, on minimum wage at times. I just could not deal with not being able to form decisions for myself. I wanted some mental space. So it was the right move? A shitty hostel with security guards downstairs. They rarely did any work, they were just good at complaining. We couldn't even have more than two guests over at a time. Visitors had to sign their names on a logbook. I am still not sure why they tracked our movement that heavily. We rarely had much money, so the income from selling drugs really helped. I decided to sell some cocaine too. The only difference was, cocaine brought fewer customers, but higher returns on each. It made sense. The clients were not easy to find at first. They were either in local pubs or normal working professionals. Once I did find the right clientele, my line did not stop ringing. I lost my phone several times and had to build my line again. I was scared I would get caught. That drug did not have a happy ending. With cannabis its normally just a slap on the wrist, but with cocaine, they could slap some years.

I attended college when I felt like it. My teachers disliked me, I walked in like I ran the place. Baggy trousers, over sized t-shirts listening to underground American rappers talking about the lethal weapons, on a Sony Erickson Walkman phone. They were popular then. They knew I was in what they consider a 'gang' and so I guess they were just impressed I even made it there. It was one of the leading colleges in the city. I only got in as my school was a partner school. We did not have a sixth form, and so they provided further education for us. Its funny really, I got kicked out of school and still made it there. It was remarkable. I was weeks behind on work, had an attitude problem and went in mostly to sell gear. The smokers section was my area. A bench in the centre of a building that was no longer in use. Teens would hang around there smoking cannabis, tobacco and taking pills. Trees surrounded the entire place. Occasionally teachers would walk up to us and shake their heads, ask if anyone had a lesson. The students would then hurriedly pack their bags and start making a move towards the main hall. They knew better not to ask me, I didn't look approachable. That place was full of upper class teens with a silver spoon up their asses. You could tell they all had mummy and daddy money. They just liked to act like they were drifting off the right path. I guess they thought it would look cool. Blame society, not me. I just wanted to attend to their 'coolness' I guess. Cocaine at the age of 16, hell I had never even tried it. They loved it, made them run around like headless chickens. Jumping around the lunch area and carefully yet carelessly acting obnoxious. Pushing over tables, standing on chairs and running around the canteen. As soon as a teacher would appear, they would settle down. They just loved the thrill of looking like rule breakers, even if for a short while. They would then get picked up in prestigious vehicles and behave like boarding school students again. I hated them. It was probably because I envied them at the same time. They had it all, yet they wanted to fuck up. It made no sense to me.

I almost got kicked out first year. They just about kept me in, under supervision. A lady called Clare would 'check up' on me regularly, or when I decided to go in. I would see her through the glass door when I was in lessons. She would smile and then enter. Have a brief word with my teacher and walk up to my table. She would ask me to come outside for a quick chat. She would lean against the wall, arms crossed and ask me how everything was, if I had been doing my work. To which I always replied yes, even if I hadn't. She knew I was trouble, but she was so friendly. They started offering me a support allowance. Maybe this was their way of getting me to go in more often. £60 a week, I'd take that. Free money is still money. I had to knock on her door once a week to collect a signed sheet from her, requesting the college to give me my allowance. I would then go upstairs to the admins office and hand them the sheet. They use to keep the money in a little blue box. Once I even scanned the paper and duplicated the document. It would have worked, they just didn't have enough cash in the box. I think she use to allocate the exact amount before signing my sheet. They were smart. We were up late nights in the hostel smoking weed. One of the guys had a beaten microphone and a small laptop. I'm surprised the mic even collected any sound. We had dropped it like a dozen times, on one of our stoned nights of course. We would spend hours recording gangster songs. Talking about guns we had never seen in real life. It all sounded scary to outsiders. That is the image we wanted to portray, fear. When we did eventually get our hands on an actual firearm, the songs turned even more aggressive. Even though it wasn't ours, we knew it could be reached locally. We felt like 50 cent, unstoppable. The girls in the hostel loved us. We were in charge, loud and carefree. It was us they went to if they needed anything, most times just weed or entertainment. My girlfriend had moved next door. She was so clingy. I had broken up with her 100 times, she wouldn't leave me alone. She was in deep love and I was her first. I cheated several times with several different girls. I even told her on every occasion, honesty is my principle. She would just cry for hours, listen to love songs and remain. I realised there was no getting rid of her. Besides...the sex was great. I didn't have to do much, her emotions made her feel the lightest touch, enough to lead her to frequent orgasms. The other girls in the hostel were just too eager. I was road, sold drugs, did music and even had some educational background. What more could you ask for at that age? They made it hard not to cheat.

As soon as you left the hostel you were in our area. We had the entire place on lock down. Shifts running from early morning up till late night. The main road had multiple chicken shops we use to hang. We would order wings and chill, waiting for our phones to ring. Most of the boys hung around Argos, under the shelter. You had the best view of the area from there. There was always someone around. I just wanted to rise in power. The boys gave me a hard time, the older lot. They saw something in me they didn't like. Maybe ambition or character. Most times they would take some of my income, a cheeky £20 here and there. They would belittle us and treat us like workers. Even though we were never working for them. I guess they got respect as they were older. It's only right. I was taught to respect my elders, it all went hand in hand. The gambling shops in the area would always let us in. They knew we were too young, but they were scared to turn us away. There was one right opposite the hostel. Two further down the road, and several others scattered around in local areas. Most of the employees were intimidated. The corner shops all served us alcohol. We had built a relationship with the shopkeepers. They would let us off if we were short in change, and times we had money we would tip them generously. We would get drunk and gamble. Not a smart move, I know, but it was all a thrill. We felt like adults. Besides, most of the staff would buy weed off us, so they had to let us in. We almost became friends, and would have if they weren't so scared. That place was fucking up my income. All the money I made was going into those machines. Eating up all my efforts for the week note after note. My other friends all spent their money on girls, weed and clothes. A couple wanted to buy weapons to protect the area. I guess paranoia got a hold of them, and they created really powerful enemies in their heads, plus cannabis didn't help. I mean do you really need a gun at the age of 17? how dangerous can your oppositions be? in reality just frightened little boys, with no fighting experience, looking for a tool which will avoid embarrassment. Embarrassment of getting beaten up one day and losing respect from your peers. We spent money like we did not like money. By the end of the week we were all broke again, but once that line rang, it was time to make it all back. That cycle ran for a long time. It was starting to turn repetitive. We needed to think of a long term strategy.

It reached a point where the college could no longer keep me on. They called me in to see a woman in her mid thirties. I think she was in charge of student dismissals. I walked in with loud music blaring from my headphones. I pressed pause, took off the two piece and waited for her to signal me to sit down. "Take a seat Ali" she said pointing towards the chair. We sat around a small circular table, with a pink plastic flower place in the centre. The woman looked nervous speaking to me, she didn't know how I would react. "I wanted to talk to you about your performance at college, it hasn't been good enough for a while now" she said apprehensively. I knew where she was going with this...she is going to ask me to improve my attitude, I will lie and say that I will, and then I could go back to the smokers section and continue my day. "You are really behind on work, and your attendance is unacceptable" she expressed whilst rubbing her hand through her hair. "Quite frankly I'm not sure what your plans are going forward" she continued. "I have had a word with the head of the year, and we have reached a conclusion. We have to let you go. I know this is not what you want to hear but it is vital we keep a standard in the college. Now...you can finish the year but you need to look at other alternatives for the following" she announced. Wait a minute...what? They want to let me go? That news would break my mothers heart. She had already told the whole of Iran that I had gotten into one of the best colleges in the country. A lie of course, but over exaggerating is common amongst Iranians. Thankfully I did not pick up that trait. My entire family back home had eyes on me. On who I would become. They had already Google'd the name of the college and had been sent all my credentials online. Little did they know I was selling weed and cocaine, gambling, sleeping with silly girls and on the road most of the day. This was not a news I could break to my mother. I pled for them to keep me on. I said I would improve and hand in my work on time. I knew I wouldn't really, but it was worth a shot. She read through my lies and informed me that the decision was final. I was just glad they let me finish the year. End of the day my aim was just to get into university, so any college will do. I would check up on my mother frequently. Mainly for the food. More than 25 mins with her and I had to re-evaluate my entire life. Iranians in general are deep thinkers, and unless they have placed their thoughts into productive activities, they become perfectionists. Their thoughts can turn destructive without a place to empty their mental energy. My mothers job did not occupy her thoughts. Being a hairdresser does not take up much mental space. Besides, she has always suffered from various mental health issues. I can't comment. Given how hard her life has been up till now I'm not surprised, it was bound to happen. Not saying she is coocoo, but has a hard time controlling certain aspects of her thinking. It takes hours for her just to fall asleep.

A couple weeks went by since I heard the news. I was actually getting kicked out, in the nicest way. Cowards! Why not be straight forward with me? Why make it seem like they wanted to help, when in fact they were leaving me in the middle of the storm. They knew my life was hard, they could have offered more support. Maybe a professional counselling service. Who am I kidding? counselling did not help. I had already tried on several occasions with my mother. Her idea of sorting out our relationship. A referral from our GP and yet we still could not be in a room together for more than an hour. It felt like my world was crumbling down. I was at a very low point. I had a very tight circle. Although we were a large group of boys in the area, I only had two close friends. They lived in the same hostel as me. These two were the ones I spent most of the day with. We ate together, made money together, linked girls together and slept at similar times. One of us would always have weed, so when there was a shortage we would get some from each other. Due to our lifestyles, we were broke at similar times. We would spend all our money around the same time, each in their own way. The idea came up to do a robbery. Make a quick income, but one that would last a while. We were getting tired of the same cycle. Deep within we all were good people. We did not want to hurt anyone innocent and so we thought about stealing from other drug dealers. Big time ones. Unfortunately the only big time ones we knew were our own people. The others were unreachable or unknown. After a few days, a suggestion came about. What if we robbed brothels. Yes, why not? they make an illegal income anyway, we thought. "Bro it's simple...you just have to go in there for about 10 mins and we would come behind you. Don't worry they wont even know who you are" said my friend. "They wouldn't call the police, and they would make the money back within a day or two. The tips these places get alone would cover us for a few months" he continued. It was an ingenious idea, not even sure how it came about. I looked the least aggressive, I would play the customer role. Go in there casually and pretend like I was interested in one of the girls. To be honest, the other two looked too road. The owner would turn them away, but me, I could gel my hair and get in no problem. Then the other two would come dashing in with a knife, mainly for scaring purposes. No one has to get hurt. It was all too simple. The boys in the area thought we had gone mad. They wouldn't understand. They all lived at home with their parents, nice food and large TVs. Us on the other hand, had nothing. We had to build everything from scratch.

We found a brothel in a high class area. I mean how dangerous can the pimp be in those areas. I doubt he gets any action and all of the customers pay up no problems. Besides, it turned out that the owner was in fact a woman. A middle aged woman with light brown hair, shorter than me in height too. If we couldn't scare her then we were useless. We might as well as kiss the gangster life goodbye if this is a failure. I went and bought some hair gel. Styled my hair like I was in a boyband. I wore my formal black blazer and some trousers, garments I rarely used, on special occasions mainly. I felt like a upper class gangster, like I owned a nightclub. It was all too movie like. The other two teased me, I knew they were jealous I could pull it off. Suits did not match their style, they wouldn't look comfortable in them.

We decided to do it in the afternoon. I knocked on the door and the woman appeared. She smiled and signalled me to come in. She kept telling me "shhh" as if I said something, there must have been another client upstairs. "She is in the other room, follow me" she said. She thought it was my first time, she could see I was nervous. "Have you been here before?" she asked. "No, this is my first time" I replied. It was actually my second time in a brothel, I had won some money on one of my gambling ventures previously and attended a similar place. Paid for an entire hour, but I was out of there in 15 mins. I mean how often does an 18 year old get to have sex with a 35 year old woman. I was excited I guess. This place just looked more modern. The girl was extremely attractive. I would have paid, but it wasn't a day for giving, it was a day for taking. Taking what we were owed, we believed in our preformed brains. Unfortunate for her, fortunate for us. I asked the owner if I could go to the toilet. She guided me along the corridor to the left. I passed the main door on the way and unlocked it for them. When I came out, the other two had already entered. We ran into the room where both the owner and the escort were. They did not look too shocked, as if this had happened to them already. One of us showed the knife and she said "please don't make any noise". She was more worried about whoever was upstairs being disturbed. The escort barely moved a muscle. She seemed rather excited in a disturbing way. I asked where the money was and she pointed to under the couch. I reached under and pulled out a large book with a stuffed envelope in the middle. The way the envelope was positioned showed £50 notes. I thought to myself, if this thing is full of 50s, then we have at least £10,000 in here. We panicked and ran out. Found an alley way close by and counted the money. We were clearly not professionals and the owner knew. Although it did contain a couple 50s, the rest of the notes were 10s and 20s. We only made a few grand. It was not enough. We were disappointed, but at the same time relieved that it all went well.

We needed more. This wouldn't last more than two weeks, given our expenditure, we thought. We became vultures for the money. Over charging our clients. Anything I had became super powerful. "Trust me g...this shit here has been imported from dam...it is the best" I told them. "Na...you see this here...go easy on it...it looks lighter but it has a mad effect. I've been getting calls non stop" I lied. We had the best weed in town, the best cocaine in the city, apparently. The customers knew, they just wanted to keep us in business, so they paid the excess. The baggies became smaller. The weight of the goods became lighter. It was broad daylight robbery. The line started ringing less and less. I was losing them fast to greed. I tried to avoid the gambling shops as much as possible. I figured if the stack tripled in value, I could actually start something legal. Who needs university when you got money, I thought. My family back in Iran just want me to become successful. How I made it wouldn't matter so much once I get there, surely. It was taking too long. The side hustles were tiring. We needed to do a proper robbery and end it there, for me at least. The boys in the area boasted about our success. They showed more respect and we received acknowledgment. We thought we were quite the trio. Like one of them western movies.

Word got about after that robbery. A few of the older lot wanted to work with us. We appeared like risk takers, everyone loves a risk taker. I remember telling myself everyday that if I treble this amount, I will be free. News got around of another brothel we could hit. This one happened to have a painting worth £25,000 alone. "If that's the case my guy, then we made it" I thought. It all sounded too good to be true. This time we will be escorted there in a vehicle, it will be waiting for us when we got out. One of the older guys will sort it out. Same routine but better results this time. It was in a different area, North West London. The distance would be less and no panicking this time, running out with peanuts. The infamous trio at it again. I wanted to wear a face mask this time. It was a new area, one I was unfamiliar to. I didn't want to take any risks. I wouldn't go in as a customer, we will enter at the same time, all three of us. The driver parked several houses down and pointed to where he would pick us up from. It was simple. In and out.

We approached the gate of the bungalow and saw a sign which said 'Private Property - Do Not Enter'. A man in his mid thirties was manning the gate. He saw us approaching and pointed towards the sign. He must have thought that would be sufficient to keep us off the grass. We pushed pass the gate as he ran back into the house, trying to close the main door. We forced our way in and entered the property. The man stumbled on the floor petrified. "Don't worry, we ain't gonna hurt you" I said, "Just tell us where the painting and the stash is" my friend shouted. I looked around for a painting, there was nothing there. The bungalow did not even look like a brothel. The man shouted "I don't know what you are talking about, I just moved in a few months ago". We didn't believe him. We thought he was lying, as you would if you ran that type of operation. Besides, we weren't mature enough to comprehend what we were doing. I told the guys I am going to check the other room for the painting. £25,000 in my head, that should do it as I strolled across the room. I glanced at the man hiding under the table. Good, he is scared, I thought. All I saw in the other room were plastic bags. This really does not look like a brothel, and who keeps this many plastic bags? Why not fold them into one? idiotic! I went to go back into the main room to explain to the guys. What a blunder. Why would the elders show us this place? do they want us arrested? As I came to leave the room I heard a loud scream. I increased my pace, got to the living room, to see that the man had been stabbed in the arm. It was a deep cut. I jumped on my friend and shouted at him "What the fuck are you doing?". He said that the man was lying and moving too much, he panicked and reacted. The man looked like he was in agonising pain. Blood was pouring from his arm. What a fucking shambles. What did he do? the man wasn't lying. He had moved into the property a few months after the brothel had shut down. We couldn't leave without nothing. I looked around for any valuables, the entire time keeping an eye on the victim, to make sure he was okay. If he was not going to pass out. The other two took what they could find. He really didn't have much in the house. Some electronics and a couple laptops. What a disaster.

My friend came up to me and handed me the knife. "Why you giving this to me?" I said. He seemed confused and unsure what to do next. I took it from him, it was better than leaving evidence. We told him to call the ambulance after we left and say he had an accident. "Do not call the police" one of us shouted. "Sure, I won't I promise" he pled. We knew he would, we felt so guilty. On the way out we saw a woman with a pram. She was on the phone to the police. "Yes...they are coming out of the house now" she cried. I had the knife in my hand. If she sees this on me, then she would think I committed the crime. I had to dash it over the fence, I can't keep it. What if we get blood on the car. This could turn even worse. We had face masks on, we weren't worried. It was a side road, I doubt any CCTV would see us, we thought. We got in the vehicle and headed back. The guys were very angry, shouting at the driver, asking him why we were sent to that house. He didn't know either. I was extremely relaxed for some reason. As if the experience had opened my eyes.

When we arrived back to the ends, we had to find a buyer for the goods. We couldn't afford to take risks and keep any electronics on us. They may have tracking on them. You just never know with these items. I had a bad feeling about what we had just done. The other two were sure we would not get caught by the police. They stayed the night in the hostel. I went to my mothers house. I told my girlfriend to keep an eye out for any uniform entering the building. She was my lookout. I felt like at any moment we would be arrested. It just happened that 3 out of 4 of us lived in the same place. It would be an easy catch for the police, especially with the security guards downstairs. They wouldn't hesitate to offer information. We clearly were not the most liked tenants there and they could barely tame us. "Make sure you call me if you see anything. I beg you be on point." I told my girl. "Ok! and when are you coming? do you want me to come to your mums" she asked. "No...I need some time alone to sort some shit out" I told her. I spent the following day with my mother. She was shocked that I had given her this much attention. She normally saw me every other day for a brief meal. This was too much quality family time and she had noticed something was wrong. She kept asking if everything was okay, to which I responded "Yes, now can you stop asking". I decided to stay for a second night. That really confused her. I knew that if I stayed a third night many questions would arise. My girlfriend called me frequently updating me on activities. "I checked the corridors, no one is there. Plus your boys keep knocking asking for you. The security still gives me evils when I go to the shops. Maybe he knows something?" she said. No...the security doesn't know anything. Stop being excess now...I thought to myself. She felt like some sort of spy, and my love for her grew. I found some use for our relationship. She talked me into going back on the third night. The couple days spent away gave me time to think about life deeply. How we had just hurt an innocent member of the public. I did not want that on my conscience. I had to live with it now. Maybe I should try harder in education, I thought to myself. So on the third night I decided to go back and check up on the boys. They laughed at me being away, "I told you there is nothing to worry about" they said. I was starting to feel normal again.

In the early hours of the morning, I decided to start doing some college work. I was several weeks behind, but I knew I could work fast if I placed some mental energy into it. I went downstairs to my girlfriends room. We had sex. It was great, as always. I headed up to the top floor to visit one of my Moroccan friends. He had a super computer, it was state of the art. I could do my work on there, I thought. "Bro can I use your PC to do some of this fucking work? I'm mad behind" I told him. We smoked a spliff together and he dosed off. I spent a good 2-3 hours completing one of my assignments. I still had much more work to do in order to catch up, but it was a start. I went back downstairs to my girlfriends room. She had come out of the shower and had fallen asleep in her bathrobe. I thought I might as well as wake her up for a quickie, to release all the tension built up from work. Another round, not as quick as I would have hoped, and I made my way back upstairs. I had to save my work on a USB before heading to college. It would have been the first attendance in nearly two weeks. He had a half spliff on the desk. I took a glance at him, he was fast asleep. I might as well, he won't even notice. Besides, he is always smoking my stuff anyway. On my way back down to my room, in the elevator, I could hear police shouting outside of one of my friend's door. "Don't move, come out with your hands up!" one of them screamed. I was in the elevator, I was not seen. I panicked and pressed the button to head back to the top floor. I wanted to make sure I heard right. I ran back into my Moroccan friend's room. I shook him until he woke up and explained how they were arresting one of us. He was lost in his gnarly dream, and unsure whether he was awake or not. I told him to put on his trousers and come with me to the first floor. I wanted to jump out of the window. He was clearly still high. I think it took him three efforts to put on his jeans the right way. "Where is the weed" he said rubbing his eyes. "Bro...you serious? forget the weed!" I shouted. We were both very confused and fearful. We decided to take the stairs down to the first floor, I would then jump out the window. That floor was not that high. Might have been a nasty fall, but I wouldn't break anything. We walked hurriedly towards my room. Suddenly a man in plain clothes approached me and asked for my name. I could not lie, the security guards had told them everything. He knew who I was, I didn't even need to respond. He placed the cuffs on my hand, and I knew then that we were in deep shit.

On my way downstairs I saw my other 2 co-defendants. They were both half asleep, worried faces. We had masks on, it was a quiet road, they have no evidence. How did they find us though? I pondered. It was in the early hours of the morning. The security guards had a nasty smirk on their faces, as if they were glad we got caught for something. I think they were just pissed off they were making a tenth of what we did, fucking arseholes I thought. Everyone was staring at us, kids going to school, professionals going to work. The bully vans had parked up in front of the building, it looked like an organised operation. We felt like we were cool, like criminals. It all looked movie like. They squeezed us into separate bully vans and we headed towards a local police station to where the crime was committed. The way the officers interacted with us showed they must have had something on us. At the time, I did not think much of it. All I remember was wondering how long they would keep me in the station. I had my income support allowance coming in that very day. All my cash was with my girlfriend. I was looking forward to buying a McDonalds breakfast. The menu started at 7am and would run until 11am. I was sure they would let us out in exactly 24 hours. That would mean us being released around 8am the following day. We would probably get bail or no further action, I thought to myself. I stared out the window of the van. How stupid is this world? the day I actually want to go to college this shit happens. The day I tried to improve my life. Thanks a lot, now I am going to be even more behind on work. Bad timing, the story of my life. We got to the station, all of us segregated from each other. They asked if I wanted a solicitor, to which I replied yes. So they assigned me with a public one. Desmond was his name. Blonde haired man in his early 50s, around my height, a charming personality and extremely confident. He really looked like he knew what he was doing. I felt in safe hands. He asked me to explain in depth what had happened. To which I responded to the best of my abilities. He suggested we go ahead with 'no comment' and just see what evidence they actually had. He knew I didn't want to rat on my friends, he must have known the code. I returned back to my cell waiting patiently for the interview. By waiting patiently I mean I slept for another 3-4 hours without a care in the world, visioning my McDonalds meal.

The cell door swung open and the officer escorted me to the interview room. Desmond was already there. I sat beside him, tapping on the table. Two officers appeared momentarily, one of them carrying a laptop. He placed it on the table and explained the procedure. He then pressed the record button and introduced himself and his colleague. I was very tired, still half asleep, so I responded with 'no comment' even when he asked my name, to which Desmond corrected me and said that it was fine for me to give my name, comical. The officers knew what sort of interview it was going to be. They asked several questions about my whereabouts that day. What my affiliations were with my co-defendants, and if I knew anything about a robbery that took place locally. To which I replied once again 'no comment'. He then showed the evidence they had on us. What a fucking luck. It just happened that the house the driver parked at had CCTV operating. A shitty residential house in a non-high profile area, and we just happened to park exactly at that address. What are the chances. "No comment" I said again, this time extremely apprehensively. Desmond's confidence dropped also, he looked at the footage several times, wondering if our faces were shown properly. They were, you could identify any one of us easily. The questions became more and more intense. Now that the footage was shown, replying no comment became stupid. Still I replied with 'no comment' expecting the interview to end shortly. Finally they took me back to my cell. I was angry, I just wanted to go McDonalds, this was getting all too much.

48 hours had gone by. We were still in the station. That magical meal was fast becoming a myth. I hope I don't have any direct debits waiting to leave my account. That £53 income support allowance was needed. Maybe I should go to a restaurant and order a steak, I reflected. My cell door was unlocked again. The officer said that the sergeant was ready to see me. I was staring him in the eyes, waiting for him to sign my freedom. He did not say much, he was occupied on the computer. Typing rapidly on the keyboard. Why is this taking so long? Can you hurry up! eventually he spoke, but not to me, to the officer who had escorted me. "I won't be able to grant him bail at this time, put him back in the cell, we have to sort court for them in the morning" he uttered. What does that even mean? I wanted to ask someone. The officer informed me that I could try for bail from the court. Most likely it would be granted, and that the sergeant did not have authority to free us at this time. "Does this mean I have to stay here till the morning?" I asked. He nodded but told me not to worry, the court would sort us out. The food in the station was terrible. I just wanted steak and fries, and a nice cool beverage to wash it all down. What a complete joke. Desmond met up with me again. He said that we could apply for bail tomorrow and for me not to worry. I wasn't worried, I just wanted some proper food. I slept on the blue mattress for another night. I knew they couldn't keep us longer than 72 hours, tomorrow everything would be resolved.

The following day they placed us in vans I had never seen before. It was made from metal, a small cubicle with a door which locked from the outside. No seatbelts and not much leg room. We were to attend a Magistrates Court locally. It was in the early hours of the morning. I had to make do with the breakfast they offered at the station. I was still a child, lost in meaningless thoughts. Thinking how nice it would have been to play FIFA online now. Hell...I would have released my anger on the players and probably won every game. I was barely a criminal, and my entire intentions were to get out of that life. The robbery was really to speed up the process. A start to enter into a legitimate world. I hardly thought about god or religion, those things may have helped. When I was in primary school, I use to get bullied a lot. I was very smart and could multiply two numbers in my head simultaneously. The other kids hated me, they didn't like the way the teachers would encourage me. In football they would always pick me last, even though I was a great player. My mum would intervene all the time. She would notice I was sad most days and would come to the school, or worse speak to the other kids, telling them not to pick on me. That made things worse. I wanted to stand up for myself. A father figure would have been really beneficial in those challenging times. It is not easy for a woman to play both mother and father to a child. There will always be some aspects the opposite sex will be naturally better at. I only started finding myself in secondary. The bullying stopped and I made more valuable friendships. Most of the students in my primary school also went to my secondary school. I guess I wanted to show that they could no longer fuck with me. With an over protective mother, I had to move out to learn for myself. The boys in the area became family to me. I gained respect from the kids who use to bully me in primary. That feeling made me feel accomplished.

One of my friends in school was dating a girl from the lower year. A girl I warned him about. She was no good for him and I cared, as a real friend would. She use to hit me up on MSN messenger frequently. A popular messaging platform back then. I use to tell him about the advances she was making on me, he seemed infatuated by her. "Trust me she is loose, she likes everyone. She is not wifey" I told him. Eventually, he gained some insight and put his relationship to the test. He told me to entertain her, and if I could, make a move. "Honestly if you can do it with her, then do it. Don't watch that it's calm" he said. It was the beginning of their relationship. I wasn't too keen on her, she was not physically my type. "Na man...I ain't even feeling her" I told him. She came across like a tomboy. He provoked me and said that I was lying, as if I was jealous of their relationship. "Bro allow it...she ain't on you. your just waffling, you think everyone is on you" he teased. One day after school she caught me alone. She expressed her feelings for me and we walked home together. "I like you...your so funny. I think we have this spark" she explained. She was becoming very obsessive, offline now. At first I had no intentions of getting with her. She was seducing me, touching me in certain places, behaving sexual. "What are you doing?" I said trying to resist. At that time I had only been with one other, so the touch of a girl was bound to turn me on. I had just turned 16 at the time. We joked, laughed and flirted on the journey. We got to a cemetery near my house. We found a bench and started kissing, her on top of me. It was turning too sexual, and so I guided her to the back of a tree. We had a brief encounter, maybe for about 20 seconds. Neither one of us came. She felt bad about cheating on my friend, even though it was only the start of their relationship. "Please don't tell him anything. Don't fuck shit up for us" she begged. "I'll tell him you cheated, you two are not right for each other" I told her. I had to tell him and did so once I got home. He could not believe it at first, but later confronted her. "Tell me what happened again?" he asked. Their relationship ended. She hated me for telling him, but as a good friend you would. Besides, we had planned the entire thing beforehand. A couple days later, I got a phone call from my mother. "Ali come home, what have you done? hurry up and come here" she shouted. She said we needed to speak urgently.

I literally ran home that day. When I arrived my mother looked so angry. "What the fuck have you done?" she asked. I was confused more than anything. What was she talking about? I did not understand. She explained that the police had contacted her and told her to bring me into the station for an interview. "They say you and this girl have had sex in somewhere and she did not want to do it" she continued. I was incredibly shocked, it made no sense. Had this girl claimed rape on me? is that how heart broken she was? it wasn't the type of news I expected to hear. I was taken aback, unsure what to tell my mum. "Mum I don't know what she is talking about. She followed me after school. She was the one who came after me. She is lying" I cried. The next day we went to our local police station. This was the first time I actually saw a cell. The interview did not last long, maybe around 20 mins. It was a very unpleasant experience. I had to describe in detail sexual acts in front of my mother, not something I thought I ever had to do. "So I put it in and then took it out like 20 seconds later" I explained. "Sorry...what did you put in? can you be more specific" asked the officer. "My penis...I put my penis in her" I responded. I could see my mother's face turning red. It was really embarrassing. They released me on bail and I attended school normally that same day. All I wanted to do was find the girl, I was angry. I wanted to lash out at her, verbally. What a fucking bitch. She was no where to be found. I went to my lessons as normal but could hardly concentrate. I told my friend what she had done and he was disgusted with her. "No way! why would she do that the slut" he said. He said he would give a statement if I needed it, which I did. "Love bro...I'll let you know if I need it" I told him. I needed to protect myself. These are serious accusations in the western world. When the school bell rang, I made my way out from the main school gates. I saw her there with a group of her friends, staring at me with hateful eyes. She followed me again, apologising for what she had done. "Look I'm sorry...I didn't know it was rape but when I told someone they said it was. Like I was forced to give the statement" she explained. My intuition told me to record our voices. A smart thought at the age of 16. On that voice note she explained everything, and said that she was forced by her family members to claim rape. Something I did not understand. "How does that make any sense? how could anyone force you to lie?" I asked. I increased my pace and she matched me. We continued to talk, the whole time asking detailed questions. I was just glad I got the recording. I handed it to the police officer in charge of my case the next day, early morning. She dismissed me of all charges and closed the case. "I'm sorry about the experience. I want to let you know that no further action will be taken against you. You will receive a letter in the post with some support for people who have experienced something similar" she said. This was a relief for me and my mother.

The situation in school did not improve. She would apologise when we were alone and shout abusive words to me when my friend was around. "You fucking liar, he is lying don't believe him. He forced me to go with him" she would say. It was clear she was playing a role to get him back. Our loyalty remained, and he was on my side completely. There was drama every other day in school. One day after school I saw her again with her friends. This time there was a boy amongst the midst. He joined in with the abusive comments. "You fucking rapist, how could you do that to girls" he shouted. I could not control my anger, and so I hit him. The force was rather great and his nose started bleeding. A reaction I had learnt from years of martial arts. An extra curriculum activity my mother was sure would come in handy. It did, and still does till today. Our headteacher got involved after the incident. He realised that he could not keep me in the school. The parents of the girl had turned other mothers in the school against me. There was constant drama, it was all insane. The head of the year called us in for a meeting. "I understand your situation. I need you to know that we cannot keep your son here for the safety of other students and himself" he explained. "He would need to study the rest of the year from home. There is not much of the year left, I hope you understand" he continued. My mum was unbelievably dismissive towards the idea. She showed evidence from the police, stating that it was a false accusation and that she was the one who should be removed. "Why not take her out of the school? he hasn't done anything. Look at the paper I just gave you" she said aggressively. They promised me 100% attendance and that a tutor will come home to teach me. It was their way of controlling the situation. How stupid was that? I was technically the victim in all of this. Frequent calls home from the headteacher. "Look madam please comprehend with the situation. It is our best interest for your son to perform well. I will personally make sure he gets the best tutor" he claimed. After a few days of persuasion from the newly assigned headteacher, my mum accepted the terms, but only with frequent visits from a qualified tutor. It was my final year of GCSEs, how important it was. So there I was, kicked out of school in my final year. All because I wanted to be a good friend, manipulated sexually into getting into something with someone I didn't even fancy. What a complete joke.

The tutor barely came. Only towards the last two months before my exams. He seemed unmotivated and under paid. I was starting to neglect my studies and hanging in shisha establishments. Puffing away my time with a group of unmotivated friends. My cousin would tutor me instead. He was really strong in certain subjects. He really did do me justice, I would have fallen off completely. I went in for my exams as normal with the other students. In the end, I managed to get 8 GCSEs A*-C grades, which was remarkable. It really took plenty of mental energy to achieve that, a result I was happy about. The only problem was I had gone off the rails by then, moved out of home, selling drugs and making silly life errors. I was bound to find an empty cell eventually, and so here I was...

The journey did not take long, although it was very uncomfortable. The court cells were far worse than the police station. Wooden seats which were harsh to sleep on. The food was absolutely revolting. All of them were microwaved and tasted like plastic. "Don't you have anything else?" I asked. "Erm...we have Shepard's pie if you want?" replied one of the security guards. "Is that also microwaved?" I asked again. He nodded "So do you want it?" he asked somewhat frustrated. "No...its ok" I replied. What they offered in the police station became a luxury at that moment. I was angry at my friend who had stabbed the victim. I wanted him to admit to what he had done. "Fam why don't you just say you did it. Why you dragging all of us into this shit?" I shouted through the metal doors. "Oi Ali S stop chatting shit. Should we just say everything we all did?" he asked. It was best left unsaid, the no comment procedure would have been our best hope. Surely they would identify who done the stabbing, and we would be sentenced accordingly. Desmond remained positive throughout. He seemed almost certain that I would get bail. "Look don't worry. We will go for bail. I am about 80% sure we will get it. You said you have some college work right?" he asked in a very calm and composed manner. I nodded yes. "So we will take it from there" he continued. When we did arrive upstairs, the judge looked perplexed. This was clearly a case which could not be dealt with in a Magistrate Court. "I'm not sure who actually sent these boys here, this needs to be taken to a Crown Court" he shouted aggressively. He must have had a bad day, just our luck. He explained how he was not authorised to grant bail, in order to protect the victim and any witnesses. It made sense, even though I doubt we would have approached any of them. End of the day, the guy was innocent. I didn't seem to understand what that meant. I couldn't wait to speak with Desmond. Where does this leave us? and so we were taken back downstairs by security. I was placed in a room with Desmond. "Ok so that did not go how we wanted it" he explained. You think? Is this guy serious? I thought..."You will need to spend the night in a young offenders. Don't worry it is only for a short while. It is easy in there" he claimed. We would then be taken to a Crown Court the following day. Wait a minute? Does this mean I am going to prison? I thought to myself. I felt nervous. I didn't really know what to expect. My understanding of prison was based on the movies I had seen previously. I kept thinking I would be approached by people who wanted to test me. Those American movies did not help, and the couple people I knew who had been to prison before said it was a shithole. I was unsure what to expect. I didn't feel good, but it was only for a night. I was sure I could handle it.

The journey to Feltham was long and tiring. The sweatbox was dirty and the van stunk. I was staring out the window at the people walking by, most of which had just finished work. I never got to buy that meal after all. What a shame, I thought. The driver turned up the radio, as requested by another detainee. "Oi boss turn that up, that's my tune!" he shouted. He came across as if he had been to prison before. He was way too comfy in the sweatbox, even lit a tobacco roll. Not sure how he got that in there. How nice it would have been to spark one up now. I could really do with a cigarette, I thought in my head. We drove fast on the motorway listening to the radio presenters song choices for the week. I remember hearing an artist who I thought was Lil Wayne at first. It turned out to be a new artist I had never heard of before. An artist called Drake, and the song was called 'Over'. I liked the sound of it, I was lost in the lyrics thinking about tomorrow. Surely we would get bail. I had assignments that were due, I should tell Desmond to inform the judge.

The van approach two large white gates, with a blue logo representing the Queen's crown with the writing 'HM Prison Service' in white under it. The Serco van stopped momentarily, waiting for the others to enter. There was a short delay before we arrived. Once we got off we were taken to a canteen were dinner was served. "Guys get your food and go sit over there" said one of the guards pointing towards the canteen area. It was plain rice and a leg of chicken. Does this place not have a microwave? it was cold as fuck. I sat on a large table by myself, with another boy in front of me on a separate table. It was a massive open space, with around 8 large foldable tables scattered about. There was 5 of us in the canteen, everyone sitting on different tables. "You have 15 mins and then we need to go so hurry up!" shouted one other guard. I ate hurriedly and asked one of the guards if he had a cigarette. "Can I get a cigarette from somewhere" I asked. He said that we would be provided with tobacco on the wing. This was exciting news and I could not wait to get there. They stripped us down, head to toe. Gave us a t-shirt and jogging bottoms. At least the clothes were clean. We walked through the dark corridors, all 5 of us. "Keep walking guys, we are taking you to the induction wing" explained the guard. There were more people entering as we left. I think they were assigning us in groups. The place did not really look like a prison to me, not what I expected. Yes it had metal bars, but it looked more like a massive youth club in a low class area. Large narrow corridors with some greenery behind the metal bars. It was really dark, I could not see much. On the outside, Feltham was infamous. When we got to the induction wing, the guards gave us a pack of tobacco, a lighter, and asked if we needed to make a call. I called my mum first to let her know that I could not come tomorrow. "What number is this? where did you get it from?" she asked. I told her that my phone was having some network issues, and that this line was one of my friends business lines. "What business line?" she asked. What was I thinking? it would have been better not to say anything. The questions were coming. I managed to divert her thoughts and get back to the subject. "Look mum I can't come tomorrow. Something has come up and I need to do college work" I lied. I then tried to call my girlfriend, but I couldn't remember her number off by heart, I only had my mums number memorised. All of a sudden I heard someone yell my name. "Yo Ali S, is that you my guy? oh shit what you doing here?" he yelled excitedly. It was one of my friends from our area. How the hell did he end up there? and what are the chances we both arrived the same day. "What you doing here g? Did they get you for that ting?" I asked. "Yes my bro. The fucking police fucked up my shit. I am here now. I am staying in that room" he said. All of a sudden I felt a lot better. He was a few cells down from me. I was escorted to my room. I was shocked to see a TV, a sink and a decent bed. I guess I thought it would be like the police station or worse, the court cells. I turned on the TV. It was the Champions League final. Bayern Munich were playing against Inter Milan. I sparked a cigarette, washed my face and watched the rest of the game. This place is not as bad as I thought, obviously it was only early days.

The next day we were woken up really early in the morning, around 6am. It was time for court and a possible bail. I excitedly jumped out of bed and picked up my tobacco. The guard was waiting for a few others who were also attending court that same day. One by one they came out of their cells, ready to leave the wing. We walked passed the narrow corridors again and made our way towards the changing rooms. It was daylight so I got a better view of the place. We walked pass several other wings, most of which were named after fishes. Swallow, Kingfisher, Raven etc. we reached a waiting room where they kept us. "Go in here guys, we will call you soon" said one of the guards. It was a 8x8 meter room were 10 of us were waiting. "What you in for" asked one of the inmates. "Attempt murder, but they ain't got nothing on me" replied another. I was just thinking about court. I didn't want to speak to anyone. The guards would unlock the doors every 10 mins and call one of us by our surname. It took a while for them to call me. I had one guy who kept trying to make friends with me. "This is taking mad long fucking hurry up! oi guard! what the fuck they doing" he shouted. He kept walking next to me shaking his head, waiting for me to respond to his outrage. Don't talk to me, I thought to myself. I don't want to make friends right now. "What you saying, why you in here" he asked. "Robbery" I replied bluntly. I was not in the mood. "Oh shit, I got done for a robbery a year ago. I bust it" he continued. "Whats your solicitor saying?" he asked eagerly. "He cool" I replied somewhat frustrated. He got the message. He walked to the other side of the room, still moaning and using his anger to make friends. It all looked too staged, he should have just chilled out. Eventually they called my name and escorted me to a small changing room. Two guards were laughing and talking about the match last night. "Bayern were robbed" explain one of them. The other one looked like he had won some money on the game. "Take off your shoes and hand them to me" he said. I started taking off my black Air Force Ones, handing each to him individually. He would then check the insides to make sure I wasn't sneaking anything out. "Ok...now can you take off your t-shirt" he asked. I passed that to him too. He then asked me to take off my jogging bottoms, boxers and for me to squat. It's their way of controlling inmates from concealing drugs, mobile phones and weapons. "Follow this gentleman out now" he continued. The other guard took me to the canteen were we ate our first meal, more and more joined us in timely intervals. The boy who was trying to get my attention earlier had now made a friend. He seemed extremely excited listing his previous crimes, crimes he got caught for, as if they were achievements. "Yeah I did time there too, fuck them guards there" he shouted. "I bust that, trust me I'm on point" he said to his new friend. Oh shut up, I thought in my head. You are barely a pro if you've been caught this many times. I didn't know then that I would meet plenty others like him moving forward. Once again one by one they called our names and placed us in Serco vans. We were being taken to a Crown Court in Wood Green this time. The van was much larger than the one that brought us there. There was 8 or 9 of us being taken to different courts. We drove on the motorway, loud music blaring from the radio. That was the only source of entertainment the music. All of the music were commercial songs, none of which I listened to on the outside. I was more use to underground gangster music, really violent and aggressive ones. This shit all seemed too soft, as if my heart would turn soft listening to that shit. The van reached the city and dropped a couple inmates off at the Old Bailey. This is a famous Crown Court in Central London where they deal with serious cases, murder being top of the list. The two inmates hopped out nervously anticipating their futures. The van would then move and drop others at local courts nearby. I was one of the last inmates left on the van. My court was in North London and not in Central. I remember thinking that the journey home would be quick, the hostel was around 15 mins away by bus. The van stopped and one of the guards unlocked my cubicle. He placed handcuffs on me and led me towards the exit door. I walked down the steps, left the van and made my way towards a backdoor leading to the court.

They had placed me back into them shitty court cells. Why make the seats out of wood? whose stupid idea was this? are they running out of materials? not even a cushion! my co-defendants also arrived. "Yo Ali S, you here" shouted one of them. "Yeah yeah, where did they take you?" I asked. "They took man to Isis, it's calm there" he explained. My other co-defendant was also being kept in Feltham, but on another wing. I was pleased to hear that and told him to request a move to Kingfisher my induction wing. He told me that we had to wait for our permanent wings as he had asked the guards already. Besides, we thought we would have been granted bail that day anyway. "My solicitor says that we won't get bail" shouted one of my friends through his door. "He says that we might fuck up the process and scare the witness" he continued. "No way, Desmond said we will get it. I told him to tell them I have work for college. I told you lot this college ting is wavey" I responded. "Yeah can't lie your nice, you got that college ting on smash" said my other friend. I felt rather optimistic and the brief chat I had with Desmond made me feel even better. "Look I know this judge, he is very organised and fair. He should grant you bail on the basis that you are in a good college and have work to hand in" he explained. "Just leave it with me, try sorting out your hair and smile if you can when he looks at you" he preached. Sort my hair? yeah no problem. If that would get me bail then I have no issue with that. We waited patiently for a couple hours, speaking to each other through the gaps on the metallic doors. The court guards guided us upstairs together as requested by one of the boys. We were taken to the stand where we sat together overlooking the entire court. Our barristers were seated in front of us wearing those funny wigs. Why do they wear those? whats wrong with their own hair? I thought. The judge entered from the back and took his seat in the centre of the court, right opposite us. I had prepared a great smile for him but he barely looked at us. Why the fuck is he not looking this way? look at me I'm ready to smile! Desmond was fiddling with some paper on the desk. They all stood up when he entered including us. We were told to then take a seat and wait for him to speak. The judge seemed rather uninterested in the case as if he had a million other things to do. They were talking about it using really big words, most of which I didn't understand. Using technical words to explain the law and process. Desmond barely spoke I didn't even hear a word come out of his mouth. Say something you mug! I thought to myself. Eventually he stood up for a brief moment outlining my college work and that I had to attend in order to keep my place. The judge seemed unmoved, he just scanned the papers and glanced at me. It was such a short glance the smile would have not even been noticed. "Ok...so I agree with the proceedings from the previous court. I cannot grant them bail until the first hearing on the 6th. They may attempt bail once again then" he dominantly replied. Desmond took a feeble seat and the judge uttered some other things I did not understand. We were told to stand once again as he exited. Desmond walked up to the stand and told me that he would meet me downstairs and so we were taken back to the court cells. "Oi what does that mean you man?" I asked my friends. "Fam we not getting bail. I told you we going back, I knew it" one of them replied. I wanted to lash out on Desmond for getting my hopes up. The guard unlocked my door again and took me to a room to see Desmond. He was adjusting his glasses and reading some papers. "What was that about?" I asked. "Not to worry. They can't grant us bail now but on the 6th we can try again. You said it was easy in there anyway right?" he asked. I nodded and waited for him to speak again. "Do you want me to call anyone for you? I think your girlfriend, a girl who says she knows you wants to get in contact with you. She has asked me to give you her number" he said. He wrote it down and said he will hand it in. The 6th was over a week away. This meant I had to stay in prison for another week at least. What the fuck am I going to tell my mum? this is a joke. Desmond had such a charming personality you couldn't stay angry at him. He had a unique character one I had not seen before. The way he walked, the way he talked, it was indifferent. Nothing would phase him. I thought about changing solicitors but the more I spoke to him the more safe I felt. They took us back to our cells as we waited for the vans to come and collect us. It took about 30 mins for them to arrive. Separately we made our way out saying our goodbyes. Back on the van now and a 2 hour journey across the fields to Feltham. More silly commercial music and idiots making noise from their cubicles asking what everyone was in for. Don't talk to me, I kept thinking. I don't care if you beat your case stop telling me. Luckily no one bothered me as I stared out the window thinking about what to tell my mum.

When we arrived back I opened the flaps to see if the boy from my area was in his cell. He jumped up and walked to the door. "What happened bro?" he asked. "They said we had to stay here for another week and go for bail. Fuck these people" I replied. He seemed happy to find out that he would not be there alone. "Ali hurry up I need to lock you in" said one of the prison guards. "I have to go g, I'll see you in the morning for exercise" I told him. That night in the cell was tiring. I kept thinking about the false promises Desmond had made to me. Why don't these people ever just tell the truth? Why sugar coat everything? now the week would drag. I wasn't mentally prepared. It took a while to fall asleep I was really in need of a spliff, I kept tossing and turning. The withdrawal symptoms were immense I felt physical and mental pain. In the morning when they opened our cells for exercise my bed was wet from all the sweating. I was having vivid dreams about the hostel and chilling in my girlfriends room. When I woke up a prison cell was not what I was expecting to see. The boy from my area was the first one to come to my door, he said that we could go out for some fresh air. He had already made a few friends who followed him eagerly. I said hello to the other guys and we walked together outside. The exercise yard was full, everyone had come out for fresh air. There were around 30 of us walking around, doing press ups and smoking tobacco. 2 or 3 guards were positioned in different corners of the yard, anticipating any act of violence. "What you saying bro? I swear I seen you somewhere" asked one of the guys. "Yeah I don't think so, What area you from" I replied. "I'm from the ends I seen you before in that rave I think" he explained. He was right I had seen him before. I must have been stoned though I could barely remember. We continued to speak about a girl he had been seeing. I knew who she was. She must have reported him to the police and he was angry at her. "Don't trust these bitches bro" I told him. He laughed and said that was his baby mother. He had gotten her pregnant. That's awkward, I wish he had told me sooner it was his baby mother. I just called her a bitch. He did not seem too bothered anyway, as if forming a friendship with me was more important. We spent the remainder of our association period socialising with each other. I got closer to the other two boys too. We had mutual friends. That evening I had to call my mother to explain everything. "Look mum I'm in the police station and they will keep me here for the week. Someone done something and they thought it was me. Don't worry they will find out who it was and I will be released" I explain. She was absolutely delirious, shouting and cursing me. It was understandable, this was not a place she ever expected me to be. She passed the phone to my sister who also asked what the fuck I had done. "It's not my fault but don't worry they will let me out in a week or so" I continued. I hung up the call and went back to my cell. The next day I managed to get my girlfriends number from the guards, this was provided to them by Desmond. "I am so worried. I didn't know if I should contact your mum. We have been going to your other friends family homes. They are all worried" she explained. I told her to not visit my mother and that I would send her a visiting order so that she could see me. This was a sheet we use to hand to the guards with the name and address of our visitors. Within a couple days they would grant us the visit. The person could then book a meeting. The next 3 or 4 days went pretty fast. We were out of our cells for a 20 min exercise and an hour association period a day. The showers were also on the wing, and we could request our names to be placed down on a list to make phone calls. We would then hurriedly jump in the shower, make a call when our names were called and spend the rest of the time socialising or playing pool. I was really good at table tennis, the winner would stay on. After a few days I had my first visit from my girlfriend. A large open space with circular tables scattered around. There were maybe around 50 different tables. Inmates would be called to take a seat and wait for their visitors to arrive. The visitors were allowed to buy us snacks and drinks from the canteen. They would bring these over in a small tray. I saw my girlfriend walking towards my table. I gave her a hug and signalled her to sit down. She looked so worried. "How is everything? are you ok? The police raided my room when they were arresting you. I was in my bathrobe literally naked. It was so scary and embarrassing" she said. Can you believe that? those bastards had raided her room and not even given her a chance to cover herself. Sick pricks I thought to myself. "Yeah its all mad. Desmond said I'd probably get bail on the 6th. I should be out soon" I explained. She looked happy and we continued to talk and eat. The 2 hours or so flew by and she had made me extremely horny. It was unusual for us to be in a close proximity for more than an hour and not do anything. This was not an easy task. I kissed her goodbye and she almost cried as she left. We returned to our cells were I jerked off to release the sexual energy. A common thing amongst prisoners. Being away from female contact for long periods is not healthy, especially if you are no longer a virgin. I just happened to have a high sex drive, that made things even harder. She sent me my first postal order, which is what people on the outside send to provide prisoners with money. £50 and a letter expressing how much she missed me. At first I didn't know how the money would have come in use. A guard later explained that it could be spent on canteen. A sheet provided by the prison and we would tick off items we wanted for that week. It contained snacks, tuna, drinks, lighters, tobacco and many other items. I never did get to spend the money as the week ended and I was due to attend court the next day for my hearing. I was hopeful but at the same time nervous. Although it wasn't hard on the inside given that it was only the induction wing, I didn't want to spend any more time in there. It was a waste of time and it had already effected the closest to me. I needed to find a way to get bail. Surely they would grant me that.

That morning on the Serco van again I was in deep thoughts. What if they don't give us bail this time. I will definitely fire Desmond, this guy is messing about. One of the boys from the exercise yard was in my van, in a cubicle a couple spaces down. We spoke the entire journey, shouting through the holes. I was glad he was there, I didn't want to go too deep into thoughts. He kept my mind occupied and the journey to court flew by. I got off before him, he was to attend a Magistrate court near mine. I went back to the same Crown Court in Wood Green, North London. I remember seeing the bus that would lead to mine. How nice it would have been to just hop on now. Shit...do I even have my oyster card? fuck it I'd just ask the driver to let me on for a few stops. In those unfriendly court cells again, yelling the names of my other two co-defendants. No one responded, they must have not arrived yet I thought. Eventually they unlocked my door and took me to see Desmond again. Him bubbly as always and behaving over confident, even with my lack of trust. "Take time and prepare. How was your first week?" he asked. "Yeah it was ok but seriously I'm going to get bail today right?" I asked. He looked at the papers in front of him. "Yeah surely. This is a hearing so they will hear what you have to say more this time" he replied. I told him to get another one of my friends numbers. I needed it to inform him to do something for me on the outside. "I don't know who this person is. Should we just ask your girlfriend to tell him?" he said. That made more sense, this guy is so smart. I nodded and he continued to read through the proceedings. When we arrived upstairs my two friends were already seated, they smiled as I walked in. We sat in close proximity with the driver behind us. He was the oldest one out of us. We saw him the least as they segregated us from the elders. He was 23 at the time and us three were either 18 or 17. A similar proceeding but each of our barristers spoke for a few minutes this time. The judge even stared at each of us individually for a few seconds. I smiled but he seemed rather annoyed. Did I do the smile wrong? Fuck man I should have just kept a straight face. After everyone had said their piece, the judge spoke. "Taking into account the impact of this robbery, and the serious injuries in which the victim has experienced, It would be not right to grant bail for any of the defendants at this time. I have looked into each and everyone's case thoroughly. I understand that Ali has college work which he needs to hand in. I just cannot take the risk of freeing these men until the second and final hearing in a couple months" he expressed calmly. "That is all" he said and stood up randomly, the whole of the court following him. He made a loud exit and the security guards told us to follow them downstairs once again. What the actual fuck? This Desmond guy has to go for sure I thought, looking at him in disgust as if this was all his fault. Downstairs Desmond met up with me once again. "I'm sorry this did not go to plan. There was little I could do. You need to understand that this is a serious matter and I can only do so much" he announced. I was not happy with him. This meant I had to go back to prison for another 2 months. The 1 week was ok, but this extra 2 months would be exhausting. I didn't want to see anyone and lied down silently on the wooden chairs with my hand on my head. Fuck this place I thought. They know we wouldn't mess with the victim why are they treating us like this. "Yo Ali S" shouted one of my friends. "Yo" I responded not really wanting to talk. "I'm going to ask them to move me to your wing, what's your prison number?" he asked. I gave it to him with quite some difficulty, given all the echoing. We had to wait for our permanent wings to be assigned first. I just hope they don't place me in a shit one. I experienced the worst journey back, I was not looking forward to seeing that cell for another two months. I didn't even check up on my boy from my area, I just wanted to go to sleep. Fuck the TV too, whatever is on wouldn't be able to uplift my mood.

The next few days on the wing went by really slow. I didn't want to be a cry baby and had to man up. Besides, the friends I had made really helped. We would speak to each other through the windows throughout the day, when we were locked up. I was taken to another wing, a semi-introduction one a few days after. Here they would keep inmates waiting to be assigned to their permanent wings. This place was much dirtier than the induction. The whole of the wing looked yellow and the equipment were used and old. The pool table had been damaged and sliced. The table tennis bats were either out of shape or torn. My cell was disgusting, it felt really damp and dark. Writings all over the wall 'Free' so and so. I remember thinking I doubt those words would actually free anyone, so it was a pointless exercise. The boy from my area also moved to that wing with me, he was having a very difficult time in there. Personal issues with his family back home plus they had not supplied him with his tobacco. This place had a different feel to it. Not many people would shout through the window at night, and if they did they would be greeted with a 'Shut the fuck up you prick' from upstairs. You could tell there were inmates who actually had been there for a while. The showers were unhygienic and a couple of them were out of use. We would have to wait a longer time to shower. Unless you knew the boys on servery you were dieted. They would give you the smallest portions. Something common which led to a lot of fights in there. End of the day good food is all that you could look forward to. At first my portions were small, I knew exactly who to hold accountable for it. I saw the boy one day leaving the kitchen and had a word with him. "Bro I beg you give me a little more when I come tomorrow" I told him. "Yeah no worries" he replied. I'm not sure if he had forgotten, but the next day my portion was still small. Was this guy taking the piss out of me? I had already asked him nicely. I would see his friends all with full plates and mine was half of theirs at times. I needed to speak to him again. We were playing pool one day and it was him versus me. I played the game and lost, pool wasn't my thing. That really added fuel to the fire, especially the way he screamed 'Next' right near my ears as I walked pass. I waited for his game to finish and pulled him to one side. "Listen g again yesterday you gave me a shy amount. If you have a problem with me let me know" I said. He didn't know how to react as if he was not expecting me to confront him again, besides I looked very serious this time. "Yeah my bad bro, I got you" he said. At least my food was sorted, but a couple days had gone by and I still had to break the news to my mum. It was not something I could do on the telephone, and so I sent her a visiting order. She kept asking me to tell her what was happening on the phone, but I wanted to tell her face to face. I was handed my first canteen sheet that same day. I spent the money my girlfriend had sent me with delight. The canteen would arrive a few days later. The snacks and tuna I ordered would brighten up the entire week ahead, not to mention the tobacco. I was looking forward to it. The only thing I was dreading was the visit with my mum. I managed to see my girlfriend before her, she came on another visit. "What do you mean another two months?" she cried, literally. "Can your boy just say it was him and them to release you? that dickhead" she continued. I could tell the news had really upset her. Tears were rolling down her cheeks and she seemed agitated. "It's not that simple" I added. "We still did do the robbery so even if he did we would still be in jail" I explained. The visit ended and I was escorted back to my cell. She was right, he should have admitted I thought. The next week or so went by, the same routine. Shower, call, pool, cell and so on. I was starting to get use to it now. Dreading the visit with my mum. Breaking the news to her would be horrible.

END OF PART 1