Draft 2
Court. I never been to court before and I don’t ever want to go again. I only went because my dad told me I had to. The building looks friendly until you walk around to the metal detectors with two security guards standing there with attitudes. There was an African American man on one side and a lady on the other side. I choose to walk through the man side. He looked more pleasant. The lady was shouting “come on through put your things in the container, keys, change belts, all of it goes the container!” she was so loud the man’s line just followed the same directions. After going through the metal detectors we walked to the elevators. The elevators were in a short hall way with four on each side. The hallway was full of people rushing at the doors as soon as they opened. There were police men, lawyers in there shiny clean suits, and victims probably praying that they won’t end up in jail today. The elevators were tall gold and shiny but elevators didn’t look wide enough for the people that were filling them up as they came. The police were everywhere that you would think I would feel comfortable around them but that was wrong. They gave me the most uneasy feeling. All I know I didn’t want to be in an elevator with a lot of them. Just being in the hallways with them is enough.
“Dad let’s wait. We need an elevator with less people as possible!” I said wishing that the crowd of people would soon die down.
Once we got to the floor of the court room, there were people seated on little marble benches attached to both sides of the walls along the hallway. As we walked through it felt like a soul train line. But we weren’t dancing in the middle but we were tip toeing to the court room.
As soon as we stepped foot into the court room, an uneasy feeling filled my stomach instantly. I had the feeling that my dad was not leaving with me, but I still prayed for the best. I sat in the wrong row and a deep voice came from nowhere. “Excuse me but you cannot sit in the front row.” I moved, then looked at my dad. He was texting on his phone but the look on his face was a look as if he wanted to cry. He was trying to be strong, holding the emotions in. We were about 20mins early the court room was still setting up for all the cases they had today. It was a small room with four rows of pews in the bottom center and right for the jury. The judge sat in the middle in his grand chair. Beside him was a man and woman that I guess announced the judge and the prisoner or victim to the case. The was a mystery door to the left that was later solved. That door was for the people coming or going to jail.
“All rise, court is now in session!” said that man on the left.
The first case was for this twenty-one year old even though he looked thirty-I’m just saying- he was charged with violating his parole and drug possession. He had got caught in the middle of a sale. His whole family was there with him and he had the same lawyer as my dad.
“Oh please judge I’m soo sorry and I promise I won’t do it again it time to focus on my family and my unborn child. I don’t want to be in trouble anymore.” He walked away with 8 years of probation. The judge said “ If I see you again in this courtroom for anything even a ticket, dirty urine, anything you will serve that time in jail, up state!” listening to the judge made me worry about the fate of my father.
The lawyer left the stand and notify my dad was next he said “ Just some advice don’t do what that guy just did, when or if the judge ask you have anything to add.”
“Ricky R. Collins” I couldn’t hear anything else but his name and he took the stand.
“You know he’s charge with having eight grams of cocaine the minimum is 1-3 years. This is not th“Mr. Collins has been moving forward since his arrest. He’s applied to several job applications that I have here. Printed the many emails stated they have accepted his applications. He’s a family man with his daughter here with him now” stating as he pointed at me. Felt like everybody turned and looked at me. He continued “he is ready to be a legal working man. He has worked and did some work at his dad’s contractors. Mornings he takes his youngest daughter to school, and picks her up at 3:15 every day. So house arrest will be appropriate for this occasion because it will allow him to work and be off the streets.”
“Mr. Collins do you have any last words?” the judge asked. He didn’t even look at him in waiting for a response. The courtroom temperature dropped all of sudden it felt colder than my dad spoke.
“Judge I can give you my word that this is my last time. This is not the life I want to live nor show my kids. Everything I do I do for them. I’m sorry and I promise you won’t see me again.” He stated followed by a deep breath.
“Until you can prove that you can and willing to work you will serve one and a half years then I might consider the house arrest for the rest of the time. “
“But I do have a job coming they are processing my paper work and is supposed to be calling me in a couple of days” he interrupted the judge.
“Do we have any proof of this?” he questioned the lawyer.
“The lady only responded by phone so no” the lawyer answered.
“Okay Mr. Collins …” That’s when the conversation went into a blur. I didn’t quite understand what was going on. The judge kept throwing in the house arrest and jail time I was confused. My heart sank deep in my chest I’m pretty sure it was in my stomach. Just watching then lead my dad into that secret door. Our last exchange words were “Here go the money to pay my rent. But see if Phyllis is gonna pay it first if she don’t you do it.” He gave me his phone and the money and that was it. I tried so hard not to cry but I really didn’t know how to feel. I left the court room and the lawyer walked behind me he said his house arrest was granted and he should be staying at my grandma house, but he’s spending 2-3 weeks in jail until the house arrest is set up.
The heel of my shoe was broke due to tucking my feet under the pew. My first step was to go to Phyllis house and change my shoes and see if she’s going to pay the rent.
e first time he has been in trouble. 1st in 1990 that was drug related 2nd in 2010 for
“Dad let’s wait. We need an elevator with less people as possible!” I said wishing that the crowd of people would soon die down.
Once we got to the floor of the court room, there were people seated on little marble benches attached to both sides of the walls along the hallway. As we walked through it felt like a soul train line. But we weren’t dancing in the middle but we were tip toeing to the court room.
As soon as we stepped foot into the court room, an uneasy feeling filled my stomach instantly. I had the feeling that my dad was not leaving with me, but I still prayed for the best. I sat in the wrong row and a deep voice came from nowhere. “Excuse me but you cannot sit in the front row.” I moved, then looked at my dad. He was texting on his phone but the look on his face was a look as if he wanted to cry. He was trying to be strong, holding the emotions in. We were about 20mins early the court room was still setting up for all the cases they had today. It was a small room with four rows of pews in the bottom center and right for the jury. The judge sat in the middle in his grand chair. Beside him was a man and woman that I guess announced the judge and the prisoner or victim to the case. The was a mystery door to the left that was later solved. That door was for the people coming or going to jail.
“All rise, court is now in session!” said that man on the left.
The first case was for this twenty-one year old even though he looked thirty-I’m just saying- he was charged with violating his parole and drug possession. He had got caught in the middle of a sale. His whole family was there with him and he had the same lawyer as my dad.
“Oh please judge I’m soo sorry and I promise I won’t do it again it time to focus on my family and my unborn child. I don’t want to be in trouble anymore.” He walked away with 8 years of probation. The judge said “ If I see you again in this courtroom for anything even a ticket, dirty urine, anything you will serve that time in jail, up state!” listening to the judge made me worry about the fate of my father.
The lawyer left the stand and notify my dad was next he said “ Just some advice don’t do what that guy just did, when or if the judge ask you have anything to add.”
“Ricky R. Collins” I couldn’t hear anything else but his name and he took the stand.
“You know he’s charge with having eight grams of cocaine the minimum is 1-3 years. This is not th“Mr. Collins has been moving forward since his arrest. He’s applied to several job applications that I have here. Printed the many emails stated they have accepted his applications. He’s a family man with his daughter here with him now” stating as he pointed at me. Felt like everybody turned and looked at me. He continued “he is ready to be a legal working man. He has worked and did some work at his dad’s contractors. Mornings he takes his youngest daughter to school, and picks her up at 3:15 every day. So house arrest will be appropriate for this occasion because it will allow him to work and be off the streets.”
“Mr. Collins do you have any last words?” the judge asked. He didn’t even look at him in waiting for a response. The courtroom temperature dropped all of sudden it felt colder than my dad spoke.
“Judge I can give you my word that this is my last time. This is not the life I want to live nor show my kids. Everything I do I do for them. I’m sorry and I promise you won’t see me again.” He stated followed by a deep breath.
“Until you can prove that you can and willing to work you will serve one and a half years then I might consider the house arrest for the rest of the time. “
“But I do have a job coming they are processing my paper work and is supposed to be calling me in a couple of days” he interrupted the judge.
“Do we have any proof of this?” he questioned the lawyer.
“The lady only responded by phone so no” the lawyer answered.
“Okay Mr. Collins …” That’s when the conversation went into a blur. I didn’t quite understand what was going on. The judge kept throwing in the house arrest and jail time I was confused. My heart sank deep in my chest I’m pretty sure it was in my stomach. Just watching then lead my dad into that secret door. Our last exchange words were “Here go the money to pay my rent. But see if Phyllis is gonna pay it first if she don’t you do it.” He gave me his phone and the money and that was it. I tried so hard not to cry but I really didn’t know how to feel. I left the court room and the lawyer walked behind me he said his house arrest was granted and he should be staying at my grandma house, but he’s spending 2-3 weeks in jail until the house arrest is set up.
The heel of my shoe was broke due to tucking my feet under the pew. My first step was to go to Phyllis house and change my shoes and see if she’s going to pay the rent.
e first time he has been in trouble. 1st in 1990 that was drug related 2nd in 2010 for