I’ll Never Call the Police Again

Police officers abuse their authority.

I’ll Never Call the Police Again

“What do you mean I’m under arrest? Under arrest for what?”

“I’m sorry, I have to do this. You have to understand.”

“No, actually I don’t have to understand. And no, you don’t have to do this. You choose to do this.”

That was my life about six months ago, before I moved almost 700 miles away. Growing up, we were always taught that the police were the good guys. They were the ones you call when you needed help and when you were in trouble. The older I get, the more I realized that’s not necessarily the case.

I grew up in the small town of Sumpter, Michigan where everyone knows everyone. A town where the population was less than 10,000 people. My only neighbors were my grandmother and a lady that really never came out of her house. The house was surrounded by trees and trails. On the outside it was perfect, but on the inside, there were troubles that few knew.

I had no father and an emotionally abusive mother. A mother who often said how much she hated me and my brother. How she can’t deal with us and how she didn’t care what happened to us. Then she would try to take it back and buy our love and affection with various gifts only to turn right around and scream the same hurtful things again at the top of her lungs. It was and still is a never-ending cycle (which is why I moved so far away).

Throughout the years the police were called to my home on numerous occasions due to fighting and arguing. Some physical incidents and some ridiculous incidents. It just so happened that the police station was at the end of our street. Easy access for the police to watch us in my opinion. Waiting for the day they could finally arrest me.

Though I was a child, who was easily the victim here, my mother has a way of making herself seem like the victim in every situation. And she’s good at manipulating others into believing her too. So to them and everyone else around, I was just some troublesome child who was causing my mother pain. Though I was the one being yelled and hit.

She always called the cops on me. She would tell them to take me to a hospital just so I was gone for a day or two (and they would) or as I got older she would just say she wanted me to leave the house and they had to escort me out (and they would). Then one day, shortly after I lost my grandfather, my best friend, I walked outside to a mess. My mother’s boyfriend had thrown dirt all over my car (this is what people on drugs do) and she decided she was going to blame me for it.

At this point in my life, I’m not a child anymore. I barely come out of my room because I don’t like dealing with her. I just work and try to save enough money so that I can move far away from her. So trying my best to avoid her and her childish outbursts, I do my best to walk away and lock myself in my room when she attacks me and hits me, causing my head to hit the wall behind me. So what do I do? I called the police.

I called the police because I thought they were going to help me, but instead, they arrested me for assault and battery. Are you fucking kidding me? My whole entire life I’ve been abused by this woman and she finally pushes me to a point to where I can’t take it anymore and you throw me in jail? How can this happen? It happened because she and her drug-addicted boyfriend lied to the police about what happened, saying that I hit my mother when it was the other way around.

I was arrested by Sergeant Elizabeth and Officer Joseph. And not only did they arrest me, but they also couldn’t even do it in a respectful manner, which I can only assume is because of my skin color.

One of the police officers (Officer Joseph) threw me on the ground leaving my shoes outside and my car keys while throwing me into the back of the cop car. He called me ignorant, stupid, and ugly. Once he got in the car he began taunting me. One minute he would tell me to shut up and the next he would ask me a question. It was almost like he didn’t have any control over his actions whatsoever.

That’s when I shut down.

My guess is just like they “had to” arrest me, they also “had to” treat me like garbage too. That’s their excuse anyway. They say they're just doing their job. But their job is not to be out on the streets treating people in some inhumane fashion. In my opinion, the police aren’t good for anything. Look around you, they’re abusing their power left and right. Killing and locking up innocent people.

Maybe it’s because they don’t have power or control in their own lives, so they think having power at work is going to compensate for that. Or maybe they’ve just never grown out of being a high school bully. No matter what their “excuse” is, it’s becoming clearer that the police are not to be trusted the way we all grew up believing they were.

racial profiling
Jennica Janae
Jennica Janae
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Jennica Janae

Author | Daydreamer | Perpetual Wanderer

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