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I couldn’t help but glance towards the front seat, where the officers exchanged a nod of acknowledgment. I knew what that meant. They’d caught Ryan too, and a terrible part of me thought that at least I wouldn’t be going into this alone. I shifted in the backseat, the handcuffs cutting into my wrists uncomfortably.
I hated myself for even thinking that.
The police car continued driving through the night, the radio intermittently updating the officers on the ongoing situation. The whole fire department had been called in to combat the flames, but there was a growing worry that the entire gas station might blow. I hoped it wouldn’t.
I hoped no one had gotten hurt either…
As we approached the police station, I couldn’t shake the sense of inevitable doom that awaited me there. The drive was only about five minutes, but it was the worst five minutes of my life. I sank down in the backseat, not wanting anyone to see me.
Fuck!
I’d never even gotten detention at school, let alone anything like this. Now, I was getting arrested and the possibility of going to jail for the rest of my life felt very real.
I was panicking, even more than before.
Unlike Ryan, my parents weren’t going to come bail me out. There wasn’t anyone for me here. I was alone. I had no one.
I had to deal with this all on my own.
I wanted to cry.
I didn’t know what to do. When was I supposed to call a lawyer? How did I even find one? How did I know if I had a good one? Could I even afford one? Questions spiraled through my mind on overdrive, and I bit my lower lip hard enough to taste blood.
When we pulled up, they opened the door and one of the officers wrapped his hand around my arm and roughly yanked me out of the car. I knew better than to complain as they led me inside the station, the harsh fluorescent lights blinding at first in contrast to the dark autumn night.
What happened next must have been completely routine for them, but entirely too terrifying to me.
They led me into the back, where the booking process began. The station’s sterile air, laced with the harsh scent of disinfectant, heightened my nervous panic. An officer instructed me to stand against a faded gray wall after they collected my fingerprints, and I had to blink away tears for what felt like the thousandth time that night.
The clatter of the camera shutter echoed terribly loud as my mugshot was taken. The harsh flash briefly illuminated the entire room, casting elongated shadows that frolicked across the cinderblock walls like monsters creeping through the night. Each click of the camera seemed to echo like the slamming of a door.
It was hard not to cry the whole time.
The formal documentation of charges followed. The officer’s pen scratched against the paper as they listed all of them. My mouth dried with each offense until my tongue felt like it was made of cotton. I didn’t dare say a word for fear that my voice would quiver before I burst into tears right there in front of them.
Keep it together, Maci.
Finally, they led me down a dimly lit corridor, and I quickly found myself shoved into a holding cell. The heavy door slammed shut so loudly it rung in my ears, leaving me in a small, dimly lit space. The hard, narrow bench offered meager comfort, and I sank onto it, the cold metal seeping through my clothes.
As I sat there in the stifling silence, I finally lost control. Tears leaked out from the corners of my eyes, and I burst into sobs. I tried to be as quiet as I could, but my whole life had taken a turn for the worst in the matter of a single night.
Before, there had been hope for my future. Right now, I had none. This kind of mistake would follow me for the rest of my life. Every time someone did a background check, they’d see this. It would show up when I applied for an apartment or even a job.
It would be a black stain on my record forever.
I looked up at the ceiling, trying to force myself to wake up from this nightmare and hoping I’d find myself safe in my bed. I tried pinching myself and grimaced from the pain.
This isn’t a dream.
This was absolutely, one hundred fucking percent real.
Eventually, I cried myself to sleep.
* * *
Abruptly, the metallic clank of the cell door being unlocked jolted me awake. A uniformed officer stood at the entrance, his stern expression illuminated by the muted glow of the overhead light. “You’ve got one phone call,” he stated, his tone brusque.
I blinked, totally disoriented by the sudden awakening along with my surroundings.
