Corner time: 13 hours
Prison doesn’t look good on me. Despite my
many hours of incarceration in the corner, I was surprisingly ill-equipped for
a night in the cells. Getting even a modicum of sleep was impossible - the
noise levels were horrendous – screaming, vomiting, night terrors and that was
just me.
Had Becca not been in the adjoining cell,
then I think I might have done something stupid. I had to be strong for her,
which as it turns out, probably wasn’t necessary. Apparently, it required seven
policemen, two Alsatians and a Priest armed with a taser to eventually subdue
her.
So, how did we end up here?
Well, today I turned 18 and shortly after
that, it started going downhill. Dad insisted that to celebrate, it was about
time that I spent my hard-earned birthday money on buying him a drink or seven
down the local pub.
However, it wasn’t too long before a bar
fight broke out with chairs smashed over heads and glasses shattered. Fortunately,
it was soon drawn to a swift conclusion when the riot police arrived and
bundled Becca into the back of their van. I tried to plead her case but was
arrested for my efforts.
Moral of the story – never buy your dad a
drink and never, ever suggest to Becca that she shares her crisps.
Matthew.
