ilovematurewomen
Really Really Experienced
- Joined
- Oct 8, 2002
- Posts
- 335
I was panting when I ran out of the liquor store, the store owner shouting obscenities at my direction. Who wouldn't be outraged after I stole all her days earning, If I we're her I'd also be pissed off. After running a whole block, I heard the sound of sirens coming into my direction then I saw their flashing lights, I tried to run away but someone grabbed me and forced me down to the pavement. I didn't resist them and quietly surrendered their was nothing I could do, those policemen were burly and strong, a far contrast to my reed thin frame. They handcuffed me and led in to the car.
Driving to the station a black officer lectured me on how teen-agers like me are giving black people a bad name. I just let his words pass never really intendng to listen to his lecturing. Ever since I could remember I have this penchant for rebelling against those in authority, having grown up in quite a number of foster homes I never felt any belonging in my life so I compensated this emptiness in my heart by rebelling and telling myself that I don't need those people I can get by on my own. That same philosophy brought me to this predicament. I had run away from the latest foster home that Ole Judge Mackenzie placed me in. So having no food and no money I was forced to rob a liquor store just to get by for the night and now this........
We arrived at the station and they immediately "processed" me as they would like to term it and made me wait in a room with only a table and two chairs. I waited patiently, I even drowsed off waiting for them to put me on a jail cell. Then after a couple of hours a white burly balding person entered the room.
"Son are you ready to go?" he asked me.
"Go where...?" I blurted back at him.
"You would not be spending a night here.....The chief of police said that you can stay in my rehab center."
"I'm not a crack pot....why send me to a rehab center?"I was getting nervous this time as I have horrible stories about rehab centers for drug addicts.
"No...no son....I mean you can stay at my home. It is where we help young persons like you get back into society."
"Oh...Oh.....Okay...."I thought for a while, It would be a lot better than spending your night in jail, and by the way maybe in the morning I could run away again.
"By the way, my names Pastor Vale. Bonnie Vale" he introduced himself as he extended his hand.
"My name's Joey..." I told him as I shook his hand.
With that I got my jacket and went with him..............
OOC: the part of the Pator's wife Mrs. Lilian Vale is currently open, please feel free to PM me if you are interested...........
Mrs. Lilian Vale
45 years old
white compleaxion, with blond hair
and quite conservative.....
Driving to the station a black officer lectured me on how teen-agers like me are giving black people a bad name. I just let his words pass never really intendng to listen to his lecturing. Ever since I could remember I have this penchant for rebelling against those in authority, having grown up in quite a number of foster homes I never felt any belonging in my life so I compensated this emptiness in my heart by rebelling and telling myself that I don't need those people I can get by on my own. That same philosophy brought me to this predicament. I had run away from the latest foster home that Ole Judge Mackenzie placed me in. So having no food and no money I was forced to rob a liquor store just to get by for the night and now this........
We arrived at the station and they immediately "processed" me as they would like to term it and made me wait in a room with only a table and two chairs. I waited patiently, I even drowsed off waiting for them to put me on a jail cell. Then after a couple of hours a white burly balding person entered the room.
"Son are you ready to go?" he asked me.
"Go where...?" I blurted back at him.
"You would not be spending a night here.....The chief of police said that you can stay in my rehab center."
"I'm not a crack pot....why send me to a rehab center?"I was getting nervous this time as I have horrible stories about rehab centers for drug addicts.
"No...no son....I mean you can stay at my home. It is where we help young persons like you get back into society."
"Oh...Oh.....Okay...."I thought for a while, It would be a lot better than spending your night in jail, and by the way maybe in the morning I could run away again.
"By the way, my names Pastor Vale. Bonnie Vale" he introduced himself as he extended his hand.
"My name's Joey..." I told him as I shook his hand.
With that I got my jacket and went with him..............
OOC: the part of the Pator's wife Mrs. Lilian Vale is currently open, please feel free to PM me if you are interested...........
Mrs. Lilian Vale
45 years old
white compleaxion, with blond hair
and quite conservative.....
