My first and hopefully last week in juvenile hall was pure hell and it is one of the few experiences that I can say truly changed my life. Juvenile hall that is where one finds themselves when one is caught in the wrong place and the wrong time and their parent's would rather send their child away for a week than fork over cash. My dad said he much rather have me go to juvenile hall, a prison full of teen murders, rapist and street hustlers down on their luck, than for me to have a record for the rest of my life. I told my dad a clean record wouldn't mean shit if I had no life to live. My mom said she agreed with my father and she said she only wanted what was truly best for me. My mom saying she absolutely agreed with my father was sickening I could tell she was agreeing so she would not be beaten like she always was. What a family!
             On my ride to juvenile hall I knew it was useless to argue and try to state my case one more time so I mostly thought to myself how the hell did I end up short. Who was the one to blame Ahmed my brother or Helen. Ahmed, my older brother, taught me to drive long before I got my license. He would even let me drive his car by myself as long as I promised to never go far, never tell anyone I use his car and to never borrow his car without permission. Well some how Helen found out I used his car and asked me to drive her to her friend's party and told me to stick around at the party for a while. How could I say no to Helen she lived down the street and was one of the hottest girls I knew. So anyway I ended up taking my brothers car without asking him because I figured I would not stay at the party long and I could have the car back before he even got home.
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