I was the definition of being at the wrong place at the wrong time. On what seemed to be an ordinary night out, my life took a turn for the worst. For my safety, I prefer to remain anonymous. However, to provide context to the story, I must specify that I am young black man in his late 20’s.
Picture this, it’s late at night, I’m just about to exit my car so I open the door, and suddenly, a car drives by at high speed and hit my car’s door, destroying, and detaching it in the process. As you can imagine, I was in shock because this driver almost hit me. The moments that followed were hectic, to say the least. The car that hit me did not stop to assess my wellbeing. Instead, the driver stopped the car 20 yards away, exited the car, and started running away while screaming “I’m sorry, I’m sorry”.
After seeing him run away, I got closer to his car so I could take a picture of his plate and report the incident to the police. After taking the picture, I proceeded to walk back to my car. As I was walking, I saw a group of people walking aggressively to a gas station nearby. My instinct told me these people were about to fight and I decided to interrupt this fight. I ran in front of the group of people and screamed “NO FIGHTING”. This is an important detail for the rest of the story.
After stopping the assault, I went back to my car and talked to a few witnesses that were inquiring about my wellbeing and the recent events. During my conversation with the witnesses, I saw the driver come back to his car. He was with two of his friends. I immediately approached him to obtain his insurance information. One of his friends, a tall and intimidating man, asked if I spoke Spanish. I answered him saying “No, I do not speak Spanish.” He then attempted to pay me cash for the damages, which I wasn’t willing to settle for. I needed insurance information. Suddenly, somebody who I do not know started speaking behind me. It gave me goosebunnps. He was saying things like “aren’t you angry, you should hit him, you’re taking it too easy on him” I yelled back saying “I am angry, but I am not going to hit him all I want is the information.” At that moment, someone from behind me hit the tall guy, knocking him out. Once that happened, the driver and the other person ran away.
When I realized I wouldn’t be able to catch the driver, I proceeded to calling 911, and walked back to my car. When the ambulances and the police arrived, they started interrogating me. Then, out of nowhere, the driver that hit my car reappears and tells the police that me and one more person was responsible for hitting his friend, knocking him out. Without asking any further questions, the officers told us to put our hands behind our back because we were under arrest. The officers did not read me my rights, nor did they give the driver a Breathalyzer test. I was about to have my first experience in jail. The rest of this story will be in the next edition of this magazine. Make sure to subscribe to find out what happens next.
By Anonymous