The Raid

The knots in my stomach, were tight enough to choke the life out of any living being.

Sweat poured, and tears welled in the corner of my eyes. I heard male voices probing for answers, but I couldn't understand what was being said. The sound of my apartment door being bashed in, echoed through my ears, as the police binded my arms together, still asking questions I couldn't make out. I hadn't felt right that entire day, but it wasn't until the police cars swarmed my apartment complex, that I realized something was really wrong. I had lived with my room mate for all of two weeks, before I figured out what he did for a living. He was involved in check fraud, arts and crafts is what he called it. I desperately needed a place to stay, so I never questioned it. It wasn't until I found myself sitting here, handcuffed and watching in awe as the cops destroyed my home, that I thought about the consequences of living with a criminal. The arresting officer's names were Logue and Dent. "Typical ass-hole cop names," I thought to myself as they searched the living room. I couldn't have been more right. They asked the most mundane questions as they rifled through my belongings. Soon the tears falling down my face became tears of anger rather than fear. The cops teased us about being college students, dumb enough to get caught. "Evidentially college didn't teach you shit," officer Logue boasted as he sat playing play station the raid lasted about five minutes, but the minutes feel like days when you are being violated. I knew when all was said and done, my tears would mean nothing, so as I sat in the back of the patty wagon, I prayed. The event re introduced me to prayer, and though horrific in nature it proved to be profound as well.