Painted Prison Walls (Part 2) - The Slow Beast of Injustice

Painted Prison Walls

Part II – The Slow Beast Of Injustice

After the crash life just seemed to continue on as it was with only a couple of differences. I didn’t hear anything from the police and I started my job at Coles that I enjoyed and the money was nice after not having any real income… ever..!

My friend who broke his back was still in hospital and I was visiting him as often as I could. He was not in a good way and his spirits were very low. I don’t remember much about those visits, I guess I’ve blocked them out. I basically went and drunk and smoked myself stupid after every visit, and sleep was a distant memory after the second visit, when myself and 2 other friends had to hold a pillow over his chest to hold him down to try stop his back from moving as much as possible while he coughed. The pain in his face and the cries will never leave me, I remember taking a few steps backwards afterwards, feels like I saw the whole thing from third person, branded into my memory forever. So yeah that part I remember.

I only managed to see my friend a handful of times until one visit when his family showed up and, understandably, his Dad lost his mind at me. I don’t remember what he said but by the end I remember feeling about 5 inches tall. Everyone called him off and settled him down and by then I had tears in my eyes and didn’t know what the fuck to do, I think I tried to apologize but little good that would have done. From memory my friend who had the broken back asked me to leave to which I did, so my friend and I left.
I remember walking up to my friends car with tears in my eyes and breaking down once I got there. From there I think we headed to a pub and got drunk, this was a recurring pattern and at this point I hadn’t slept for about 2 weeks, mostly laid in bed with the blender head going at full throttle.

I didn’t visit my friend again after this. Not because I didn’t want to but because everyone I spoke to said I should stay away. It seemed everyone had become afraid of his Dad.

(Is this confusing just calling everyone friend? I do wonder… I’m getting confused haha)

So I kept working at Coles and going out partying quite a bit. At some point the Police finally showed up at my family home one night quite a few weeks after the accident. Two officers, possibly the ones that were there on the evening, I can’t quite remember. They were getting my side of the story and just asked me a bunch of questions. They still didn’t arrest me or lay any charges.

At this point my parents and I were pretty confused about what the police were doing. My parents were asking around and I basically had no idea what to do, or what to expect. I was just a passenger on the slow beast that is the injustice system.

I get the impression that my family was pretty naïve as to the actions and workings of the system, I had pretty much no idea. And not being able to afford a lawyer we were basically going off any information we could from other people.
For a long time I heard nothing more. So long so that myself and even my parents were wondering if anything else was even going to happen. Life seemed to move back into some kind of form of normality. My mate was released from hospital and was able to walk and was on the road to recovery, which was a massive relief. We’d even hung out a couple of times and all my school friends seemed to be getting on. I was even able to express to him how sorry I was and we did get to talk which was good at the time. But it was all too good to be true.
Some months later, and I’m talking around 2-3months later, I got a phone call from the Police asking me if I could attend Dee Why police station. I can’t remember the exact reason but from memory it was vague and didn’t quite make sense. But my Mum and myself in our naivety decided it was no problem and headed down. I really wish we had of taken my Dad and a lawyer with us.
Upon arriving they showed us through and explained to my Mum and I that they needed me to sign these forms and have my rights read for “Insurance reasons” before they could interview me. They also put me in a cell for the duration of the time there.
So basically this is where they officially “arrested me”… and if anyone could enlighten me as to why they lied about the true nature of what was happening that would be fucking great!
They took me from the fish tank to an interview room and did a proper video interview. At no point did they explain what was happening and they did a really good job at making the whole thing seem very blasé.
I can only imagine there was something a lawyer could have done to put a stop to this or at least guide me to not fuck myself over.
Fortunately I hadn’t lied about anything and just told the story as I did the first time. One of the cops was an absolute dickhead during the interview (good cop, bad cop I guess) and tried to get me to admit to all sorts of shit from stealing the car to saying everyone else had told me to stop. And I’m certain I found the reason for that later on.

I left there feeling abused and used. By the time my Mum and I had realized what was happening it had already happened. This event took my mistrust and disliking of police and authority in general and split an atom on top of it, and further future events only fanned that fire even more.
After getting home my Dad came home from work and we discussed what happened. I had been charged with Aggravated Dangerous Driving causing Grievous Bodily Harm and a couple of other lesser offences, as they do.
My Dad was pretty angry that we didn’t wait for him before heading down. So now I would be going to court and everything just got a whole lot scarier again.

Pretty soon after this we got in contact with Legal Aid, for those that don’t know this is like a free public lawyer. I strongly recommend NEVER using them unless you have to. It took fucking ages for them to appoint us a lawyer and I didn’t even get to speak to them from memory until my first hearing, which was at Manly court house.
This was just a preliminary hearing and from what I remember when we went into the courtroom the Police prosecutor asked to have the hearing moved to The Downing Center and my lawyer basically did fuck all, and so that was done. Of course at the time I didn’t know any better and for the most part didn’t believe there was any chance of me going to jail.

It turned out that my injured friend who owned the car, his Dad had friends at Dee Why Police station, and on top of that during the questioning a couple of the people in the car had given very twisted stories about what had happened. Attesting to me stealing the car and not listening to other people in the car telling me to stop. Those two people were the car owner and one other. (I later found out that my friends Dad had approached them all and asked them to lie.)

Life continued and the discussions of how serious my charges were and whether I could go to jail continued. Between everyone that I knew, not a single person thought I would go to jail. My Uncle who was a Police prosecutor included.
During this time I started using drugs a lot… mostly eccys and base. I’m not really sure if all this was going on things would have been any different but maybe I wouldn’t have been using them purely as a way to forget.
That said during this time I had a lot of fun and met some of my favorite people ever! The silver lining on an otherwise scary and emotional time.

I started to have interviews with the guy who was to be my lawyer throughout my trial. Not knowing what to expect he just came across bland, and when I think back too busy to care. He insisted we needed to consider that there was a high chance that I could go to jail and that we should get a real lawyer. Not being able to afford one plus naivety plus no one else actually believing that to be possible – we just stuck with the legal aid lawyer.

While all this was going on I had started to really worry, I found myself getting extremely depressed, I was terrified of going to jail, with the only comparisons being that which I had seen on TV and they are never a pretty picture.
After some nights out I would just sit on top of the cliffs at North Head staring out wondering what was to come and whether I would fly if I just jumped and I could escape the approaching storm.
I started to have my first hearings at the Downing Center, so many were cancelled or moved. Seriously the whole system is fucking retarded.
Some close family friends and one of my teachers offered to come and speak on my behalf. Others wrote letters and some attended my court hearings. But again we were all still convinced I was not going to jail.

I had my hearings… all in all it took about nine months… Which is apparently quite fast. Go team fucktards!
We were all feeling quite positive when it came to my sentencing, the hearings had gone well and the Judge had taken all of what was said quite well.
So much so that when we arrived for the original sentencing date he asked for more time to come to a decision and sent us away again. My family and friends and I were so convinced I was going home that day and that we had planned a party. To which we ended up partying anyway, even though the sentencing still loomed overhead.

The final sentencing date approached the whole thing had felt like an eternity. I was pretty much shitting my pants this whole time. Despite everyone’s positivity I still had a feeling in my guts that this could go the other way. Life just went on normally to this day I partied like it was my last day on earth nearly everyday, worked everyday. And did what I could to prepare myself for the worst.

My family and I hopped on a bus to the city early that morning. I was terrified. Way more terrified than the last hearing… not sure why. Could probably see my impending doom coming most likely.
We arrived at the Downing Centre and awaited for the day to start, I can’t remember how long we had to wait around for. How it goes with court is it doesn’t matter what time your hearing happens… You need to be there at 9am regardless.
We sat around, drank coffee and were finally called in. This courtroom was quite different to the others. There was a large Perspex wall that separated the court itself from those there observing the hearings. Like your family and friends for example.
I was taken in and was asked to stand as my sentence was read out. I stood with my hands together… fuck knows what was running through my head… all I remember is feeling the presence of my family standing behind me on the other side of the Perspex.
The judge began reading out my sentence, time basically ceased to exist at this point and all I could do was listen and feel the presence of everyone in the room. He talked for a while and I wish I had the transcript on me. I may need to get it and share it. It kind of sounded like I was going to be going home, even after he discussed the sentence it still sounded like he was going to make it parole or good behavior and no jail time, but I’m not sure this wasn’t just me warping what I was hearing based on the presumption that I wouldn’t go to jail. It was after all my first offence of any kind.
But just when I thought it was over he stated that I would be spending 6 months in Jail and 12 months on parole. At this point it was like I felt myself turn inwards, I wanted to run, I wanted to scream at them, I wanted this to not be happening, I wanted to destroy everything in my way of getting out of that room. But here I am, a 19 year old kid, alone in a cage with armed men. I started balling my eyes out and turned to see what I could feel and that was my family in total distress. I watched the terror in their faces as they watched mine as another human being placed my hands in chains. In my peripheries I could see several other lawyers and persons of the Court stood up in my name pleading that I be put into the young offenders program and making special requests that I don’t go into maximum security… Meanwhile, my lawyer was packing his shit and leaving. Call me a conspiracy theorist but I do wonder if he was asked by the Police prosecutors to let this happen. He just did not seem to give 2 fucks.
Any way, the Judge allowed my family to come through and give me a hug and a kiss before being taken away. Waterfalls lined our faces as we embraced, I don’t remember much but I think my Dad threatened to kill a few people. As they pulled me away I watched their faces, I have no idea what was said. But many I Love You’s for sure. I had never been so scared and felt so much pain as right then in that moment. What the fuck had just happened?! This isn’t right, I’m a fucking child, in this moment I observed how innocent I was, how sheltered I was. WAS.

Actual blog post can be found here: https://byodiversity.wordpress.com/2018/04/04/painted-prison-walls-2/

Part 1 can be found here: https://steemit.com/blog/@benfenson/painted-prison-walls-part-one-understanding-in-a-car-crash

Don't forget to Upvote Resteem and Follow :D