My first thoughts as I was being processed in were somewhere along the lines of utter hopelessness, and defeat. I finally did it, ruined my life at the young age of twenty-three. Despite being the only one to blame, I looked for scapegoats to mitigate the sickening guilt that tasted like bile. I had been arrested for a “Failure to stop and render aid” according to my probable cause hearing. Not fully comprehending the repercussions of my blunder the night before mainly because alcohol was still present was beginning to make me disoriented.

To think that my situation could not have become any more unpleasant than it was, it did. Nobody was answering my phone call. Mother, Father, sister, uncle, and whomever else I may have tried to contact. At this point I started to belief I was on my own. To their defense, I had already been warned that if I found myself in any more legal troubles my parents would not be there to bail me out again. Like I said, I finally did. I had managed to throw away a great job as well as the respect of my parents.

This was the realization that led to my two week long stress binge. It was my first time actually making it through the whole process of “classification” that determines where you will be sleeping for you extended- stay at Harris County Jail. My birthday was coming up in November 5, and the chances of me leaving were as miniscule as the Texas lottery or Jessica Alba somehow coming to visit me. An infinitesimal chance none the least.