LOCKED UP// LIVING NIGHTMARE PART 1 June 6, 2015
May 29, 2015
After 3 nights of barely any sleep; I was just drifting off when all my fellow inmates started shouting through their closed cell doors at one another... again.
My current reality scared the shit out of me.
How did this happen?
How did I get here?
What did I do to deserve this?
I should have seen this coming....
Back on May 25, 2015
While doing my notorious quick and last minute packing; I couldn't help but continue to get overwhelmed.
I hadn't been back to The States in over 2 years- and going back scared the shit outta me.
If it wasn't for my grandmother dying and the funeral, there would have been NO way in hell I'd ever have gone back.
There's nothing there for me anymore but haunting memories of a time and person I'd like to keep in my past.
All it could take is one memory or moment and I could slip back to my old, evil and manipulative self.
Here, in Manchester, I had learned to love myself again.
Or- for what actually seemed like the first time in my life.
Not only had I built myself a beautiful and comfortable home,
I was surrounded by loving and supportive friends, as well as a boy who really made me look at myself in a more forgiving and nurturing way.
Leaving all of this scared me.
After a record breaking time of quickly packing;
I ventured onto social media.
I wanted to make sure I kept busy in The States;
but with the right people.
I wanted to meet some beautiful ladies, do photo shoots and get high and creative.
I did my best to solidify plans, but still felt on edge,
My past was haunting me in more ways than one.
Back in March of 2013 I had gotten arrested for driving while suspended and possession of drugs.
I was only taken to the local police station for finger printing and processing- I was released the same night and due a court date in the mail.
My life was not at a good place, not at all.
And my plans were to move to Manchester, UK....
So I did.
Since I had never made it to the court date, there was now a warrant for my arrest in Pennsylvania.
This weighed heavy on my mind as well.
However, I had made arrangements to fly into Newark, New Jersey instead of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.
Hopefully by doing this, I would be avoiding the State where the warrant was for.
Once in Pennsylvania it would be up to me to keep a low profile and never get stopped by a cop and have my name ran.
I decided to stop worrying on my last night by getting super stoned and making love.
May 26, 2015
I still laid naked and intertwined with my lover when the alarm went off far too early at 6:30 AM.
My flight was due to take off at 9:25 AM;
being an International journey, I was to arrive 2 hours prior to departure.
I wanted to stay there, in that moment, for as long as possible.
Everywhere our skin was touching was the perfect warmth and everywhere our skin was untouched and breathing was refreshing and cool- the perfect balance.
I somehow managed to pull myself away from that perfect moment and began seeing what I had forgotten to pack the night before.
I didn't feel prepared to leave;
like I was forgetting something- although I had no idea what.
But- I was at my last possible minute to leave and still be on-time....
So I left.
I left my beautiful home I had slowly put together.
I left the comforts I had indulged in for months.
I left my lover, who reminded me of how strong and capable I was.
On my taxi ride to Manchester Airport;
I found myself getting excited.
I wanted some good old American food, different comforts that I had almost forgotten and now seemed so foreign.
I was excited about creative opportunities.
But, most of all- being there for my father, and being the daughter I always should have been.
Surprisingly I managed to sleep through the majority of the flight.
The seats in front of me held 2 young boys around 4 and 6 years old and their their mother.
The boys occasionally woke me up with their squealing, however, I was excited for the little guys!
They were on an adventure!
And, as we started our descent into Newark Airport, I leaned forward and pointed out their window to the skyline of Manhattan, of course pointing out the Empire State Building .
The surrounding passengers in the area had heard me, and began craning their necks to get a look.
The mother kindly thanked me and then went on to tell her children stories of her and her husband in New York City before they were born.
I sat back, completely unaware of what was to come.
Once off the plane, I waited in the long ass customs line.
When it was finally my turn, I took a deep breath and approached the customs officer, U.S. passport in hand.
We began having small and polite conversation- with smiles on both our faces.
But, the second he swiped my passport, his facial expression changed.
"Are you aware of any warrants you might have in your name?" He asked me.
However, his tone said it all.
I was fucked.
"Not that I know of..." I responded in confusion.
"You're going to have to follow me" He replied sharply.
I was lead to what appeared to be the airports Homeland Security office.
The customs officer handed me off to Homeland who then began to interrogate me.
The officer interrogating me was surprisingly nice and we had much in common.
He opened up to me about how his own daughter had been going through similar things to myself, which made his sympathy quite clear.
Once the warrant had been confirmed, I was then told that I would be picked up by Port Authority officers.
I kept hoping to wake-up, still on the plane, the kids in front squealing with nerves and excitement.
Still handcuffed, they lead me to grab my luggage which had to be searched.
My 2 suitcases were the last ones left on the baggage carousel, considering the plan had landed over an hour ago.
As the Homeland Security officers lifted my suitcases on the table to be searched, I decided to let them know of its contents.
"Look...." I began. "I'm sure you see all sorts of stuff, but, I have a butt plug, vibrator, strap-on and bondage equipment packed in there."
I nervously laughed it off, as if yes, the things I just listed are normal every day items to find in a suitcase.
The officers silently gave each other a look before unzipping my luggage and exposing the contents on the table.
Watching all the lingerie and sex related items get pulled out; I wasn't in the least bit embarrassed.
Oddly enough, I was proud.
Now that my luggage had been cleared, I had requested to call my father; seeing as he was due to pick me up- and was expecting me over an hour ago.
I at least wanted him to have my belongings and jewelry.
As we exited the baggage claim, a familiar face was 10 feet in front of me.
"DAD!" I couldn't help but shout for him, and immediately burst into tears.
"WHAT'S GOING ON!?" He asked both the officer and myself stunned.
"I'm so sorry Dad!" I cried.
Regardless of the handcuffs I began to walk towards him; wanting the embrace I had been craving for the past 2 years- when I was pulled back
"NO TOUCHING!" The officer snapped, while leading me away from my father to a small interrogation room behind closed doors.
"DON'T WORRY SWEETIE! I''LL GET YOU OUT OF THIS!" My father cried after me.
I could hear him getting choked up, which made me break down.
I'm meant to be the daughter I always should have been,
NOT THIS; even if it is a warrant from over 2 years ago.
Once in the small interrogation room, I broke down.
I've been very open and honest throughout this blog; but there are family hardships I would never dare to speak about.
I had changed so much, yet my character was being judged off 2 years ago.
Before the Port Authority cops took me away; they gave my luggage and various items to my father.
They explained to me that on the way out I would be allowed to talk to my father briefly, but NO touching.
They put me up against the wall to search and pat me down before cuffing my hands behind my back.
The 3 or 4 Port Authority cops began escorting me on all sides as we entered the general pick-up area.
My father spotted me immediately and was reminded NOT to touch.
He made me feel better by assuring me this had been taken care of, and I would be out tomorrow.
As they walked me away from him, I became aware that every eye in the airport was on me.
Not because of my blue hair, or hairy armpits, but because I was in cuffs being escorted out of the airport.
"Drugs... smuggling drugs..." I heard whispers.
My father followed behind trying to make light of the situation by taking photos of me waiting for the squad car on his old school flip-phone.
'Everything will be alright.' I thought to myself as the squad car pulled up and they lowered my head inside.
The officers were very considerate at Newark Port Authority.
My cell came with a blanket for the sheet of metal I had to lay on.
They fed me a somewhat decent hamburger.
I must have drifted off and awoke at 1 AM.
I had been there since 4 PM.
"What's going on?!" I yelled through the cell to anybody who would listen.
Finally the Sergeant informed me, "You're being taken to Essex County Jail."
I immediately panicked.
I had spent quite a few nights in a cell like the one I was in now- it's nothing.
However, I had done only one other time in a County jail and it was the worst experience to date.
"Please, No!" I begged.
"There's nothing I an do." He said, avoiding making any eye contact, then walking away.
I tried to hold back the tears and prepare for what was coming; but I couldn't.
I sobbed into the jacket they had cut the strings out of.
Looking down at my Vans sneakers which they also took the laces off of, I became reminded of all the times I had survived all this before.
"This is all temporary.This is all temporary.This is all temporary.This is all temporary." I repeated to myself out loud like a mad woman.
The officers were ready to transfer me to the County Jail- which meant back in the cuffs and back in the squad car.
The ride took all of 10 minutes in which I was profusely sweating due to the intense heat change I was not prepared for.
The large metal doors for the jail opened up slowly and then slowly closed behind us once we pulled in.
They released me from the car and I breathed out as I entered what would become my Living Nightmare.