My problem started one night, on my way home from a friend’s house. It was a dark night filled with odd lights, and strange noises, but it was about to get much worse. I had never drunk alcohol before, but I was about to be accused of drinking underage. I wouldn’t even be able to tell my side of the story. Not only that, but even my parents would not believe I was innocent at first. Anyway, it all started with street lights, and a beer bottle.
I was outside at night, walking down a dark street wearing sandals. The only street light on the block not working was the one over me. I had just passed the broken streetlight when I heard the sound of a car. I turned while continuing to walk, to make sure, it wasn’t a crazy person. To my relief, it was just a cop car. Suddenly, I stumbled over a broken beer bottle, which I hadn’t seen in the dark, just as the cop car stopped right next to me. The cop got out, saw the beer bottle next to my foot, and quickly looked back up at me. She asked me to walk the curb, but I desperately tried to tell her what had happened. She wouldn’t listen to me, and I managed to stumble along the edge of the curb as if I was drunk. The cop quickly asked me where I lived, and put me in the back of the police car. I didn’t even get to call my parents, and tell them what had happened.
When I arrived at the jail, I asked the cop to call, or allow me to call my parents. She pretended like I had said nothing, escorted me into an empty jail cell, and told me to sit down. The jail cell was in need of a good cleaning, so I just stood, and watched the cop go back to her office. Several minutes later, to my relief my parents came to my rescue, or so I thought. It turns out; they didn’t believe me either.
I seemed as if everyone was against me. The cop didn’t believe me, and even my own parents didn’t believe. I wondered how my parents could believe such a story. They came into the cell, looked at my foot, and looked back at the officer. They thanked the officer, and shook hands. I was confused, and didn’t know what was going on.
The cop must have noticed my distress, and explained that she had stopped her car when she saw me stumble. At first when she looked down she wasn’t sure if I had been drinking, but then she saw my foot, and realized that I had actually tripped, and cut my foot on the beer bottle. Then, she asked me to walk down the curb to check her assumption. When, she realized that I was only stumbling, she asked for my address to see how far I had to walk. Instead of driving me to my house, she decided to just call my parents from the police station, because it was closer. What I thought was injustice, was just a misconception.