Saving Brittany

She sat in Brittany’s driveway inside her red SUV, dreading to get out. They hadn’t spoken since before Thanksgiving, when she swore she was never going to have anything to do with Brittany again. Brittany ran up to her car while trying not to fall to the ground. “Heyyyyy! You look great. How you been doin’?” As soon as Brittany reached Kristen’s car the door was pried open. Brittany leaned against the open door and pulled Kristen out of the car. Kristen forced a smile as she studied Brittany. Brittany’s eyes were sunken back into her head and it seemed as if she hadn’t showered in weeks. Her thick, brown hair was matted and falling out of a messy bun. Her old makeup was smeared across her bony face. Brittany was wearing bleach-stained sweat pants and a white t-shirt covered in brown dirt stains. Her cracked lips formed into a smile, showing yellow teeth. “Why’a always look s’nice? I love that you dyed your hair back brown. And look how long it’s got. Have you been workin’ out? You look good, Kristen,” Brittany said as her words slurred. Kristen could smell the rum on Brittany’s breath and became sick to her stomach. The smell of marijuana was strong and fresh. Brittany’s nose was red and there was dried blood under her left nostril. Kristen gave Brittany a disgusted scowl. “Why am I here?” she asked Brittany, hoping she didn’t already know the answer. Kristen and Brittany had been such close friends since they were eleven years old that everyone asked if they were sisters. No matter how many times Brittany fell to the ground and almost overdosed, Kristen always wanted to save her. One night at two a.m. Brittany had called Kristen and asked her to come pick her up. When she got to the party, Brittany was passed out on the couch and was barely breathing. Vomit covered the front of Brittany’s faded t-shirt and she smelled like a mixture of Bud Lite, Captain Morgan, and marijuana. There were needles lying across the floor and empty beer bottles were everywhere. Kristen drug Brittany off of the couch and into the bathroom. She put Brittany in the bath tub and turned on a cold shower, letting the water run over Brittany in hopes of waking her up. That wasn’t the first time that Kristen had to save Brittany from a near death situation, but it was one of the last straws. Brittany had had so much going for her, and then she just gave up all of a sudden. All it took was one gram of cocaine and Brittany was failing out of college and couldn’t find a way to pay her bills. “Look, I know you’re still mad at me, but I got my shit together,” Brittany said as she scratched her neck. “No, you haven’t. Your Facebook is Godly and you claim to be praising the good Lord, but you just lit up twenty minutes before I got here. I can smell it. I’m not dumb and you know I’m not.” Kristen knew this trip was a waste, just like it always was. She got back in her car, slamming the door shut. The radio blared when she turned the car on, drowning out Brittany begging her to stay. . Kristen’s phone rang. The caller ID read “Casey.” “Hey! What’s up?” “I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t talk shit about me,” Casey said. “I have no idea what you’re talking about?” “Yes, you do. Brittany sent me screenshots of your text conversation with her.” Kristen hung up the phone hastily. Brittany had set her up. Her phone dinged and she opened the text. “You should think next time before blowing me off. I can make anything you say look like you were talking shit. Payback’s a bitch.” Kristen wasn’t upset. She wasn’t going to cry. Her heart wasn’t broken. She was angry. She couldn’t believe that Brittany had set her up like that. After everything Kristen had done for her. Brittany needed a reality check, and Kristen was about to give her one. She shook as she dialed a number on her phone. “911 what is your emergency?” the operator asked. “Hi, yes. I would like to report someone in possession of an illegal substance, under the influence, and who is a minor that is intoxicated,” She said cold-heartily. “Are you at the scene?” “No ma’am, I just left.” “What is your name?” “Kristen Britt.” “Could you describe yourself to me and how you know the person in question is in possession and under the influence?” “I am five-foot four-inches with brown hair. I have on a pink Patagonia sweatshirt with jeans. I know that she is under the influence because I could smell it on her and I know where she keeps her stash. First room to your right, under the mattress.” “What is the address of the scene?” “115 Cherry Lane Malvern, Arkansas.” “I’m sending law enforcement that way. Dispatch is aware of the situation and where the substance is located. If you would, please make your way downtown to the station to make a statement. I am forwarding them your name and your description. It is located on Main Street. Thank you for your help.” After the call, Kristen opened up her GPS and typed in “Main Street Malvern, Arkansas.” Two police cars flew past her, sirens blaring and lights flashing. She was nervous as she pulled into the parking lot of the police station. What if she had crossed major boundary lines? What if they put Brittany away for life? Brittany was sitting on the front porch step of her house when the two police cars flew down her street. One car pulled up into the grass in front of her house and the other in her driveway. The cop, in the car in the grass, opened the door, got out, and hid behind the door. He drew his weapon. “Hands where I can see them,” he shouted. Brittany bolted. She began running as fast as she could, however, it just wasn’t fast enough. She was tripping over her own two feet. The cop caught up to her and he signaled for his partner to go inside the house and do a search. He slammed Brittany against the car, forcing her hands behind her back. His partner came back out of the house holding two small bags of white crystals and a bag of greens in one hand. The other hand carried a case of beer with two bottles of Captain Morgan tucked under his arm. “Lemme go. You got no reason to be arrestin’ me. I haven’t done a thing,” Brittany said with her face pushed up against the car. “You have the right to remain silent. Everything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one then one will be appointed to you,” the cop said. He opened the door and shoved Brittany into the car, slamming the door behind her. Kristen found a lone chair in the lobby of the police station. It was faded and the leather was tearing in spots. She picked up a magazine and began flipping through the pages. Moments later the doors were kicked open into the lobby. “Lemme go. Ya’ll got nothin’ on me. No proof. I ain’t even high. Lemme go.” Brittany was kicking and punching and screaming, even though her hands and feet were cuffed. The officers could barely contain her as they drug her to an interrogation room. One of the officers walked over to her. “Hello, miss? They tell me you’re the one who called it in. That correct?” the officer asked Kristen. “Yes sir. I was there moments before I called it in. My name is Kristen Britt,” she said. “Sargent Cooper. Let us go back into an interrogation room,” he said. Kristen got up and followed him through an old wooden door. The Sargent took her to a tiny room with an end table and two chairs that were unravelling from the seams. “Please, have a seat and make yourself at home.” Sargent Cooper said to her. She pulled out the worn out chair and sat down at the edge of the seat. She began to fidget with her hands and couldn’t bring herself to look at the Sargent. “Now, tell me why you’re here,” he said. “I’m worried about her. I called because she’s killing herself. Brittany needs jail or rehab or something. When I showed up at her house I didn’t even get out of the car at first. She came outside and she was tripping over her feet. She couldn’t even walk straight. Brittany yanked me out of my car and I could smell the marijuana on her. Then, I left. I had had enough.” “We found her in possession of methamphetamines and cocaine. There was also a couple grams of marijuana. We are still waiting on the results of her drug test, but she was also under the influence of alcohol. She’s eighteen years old and looking at a long road ahead of her. We may need you to testify.” “Yes sir.” “Please right down your statement and sign. Then you are free to go.” He pushed a sheet of notebook paper and a pen at her. When she was done ratting out Brittany, she pushed the pen and paper back across the table to Sargent Cooper. “Thank you for your cooperation, Ms. Britt. I will be in touch,” Sargent Cooper said as he removed himself from the tiny table. In the next room Brittany was slouching in her chair, waiting. Her hands and feet were cuffed together. Detective Woodward walked in and sat down across from her. “Do you know why we’re here?” he asked her. “Nope. No clue.” “We got a tip stating that you were in possession and under the influence, which turned out to be the case.” “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” “In your house we found methamphetamines, cocaine, and marijuana all located under your mattress. Let’s not forget all of the booze in your house. Your blood alcohol level was way over the legal limit and last time I checked, about five minutes ago, you're only eighteen. This is your toxscreen.” Detective Woodward threw the document at her and it slid across the table. Brittany stared at it, not moving. “What’re you offering?” she asked. ” Not a damn thing. I have concrete evidence that's going to put you away for at least 25 years. You're going down.” The detective got up from the table and left the room. A cop walked in a grabbed Brittany’s arm. “Let’s go. Move it along,” the cop said. Kristen walked out of the police station and to her car, managing to not make eye contact with anyone. She sat in her car and didn’t start it. Kristen couldn’t believe she had just done that. Kristen called her mom. Her hands trembled as she punched the buttons. It rang three times before her mom answered. “Hello?” “I need to talk to you. Are you home?” “Yes, what’s up?” “I’m leaving Malvern. I’ll see you soon.” She started the journey back to Haskell. Her mind was wandering down so many different paths. Kristen couldn’t decide if she was going to cry or if she was going to punch the steering wheel. She pulled up to her house in a daze. Kristen walked into their large kitchen and leaned up against one of the wooden bar chairs, and watched her mom cook dinner. She didn’t say anything for a minute- because her thoughts were still jumbled together. “So, how was Brittany?” her mom asked, breaking the awkward silence. “About that…” “What, Kristen?” “I thought this time would be different, but it was just like every other time she drug me down there. She was high and drunk. I couldn’t stand to see her kill herself. So I turned her in. They arrested her possession of meth, cocaine, marijuana, being under the influence, and drunk.” Her mom put the knife down and stared at her in disbelief. “Does she know it was you?” her mom asked. “I don’t think so. I’m just trying to save her life.” “I know. I think this is what’s best for her. She needs to get her act together. I can’t say that I’m surprised though. She had this coming and it was well overdue. I’m very proud of you. Brittany needs to know that she’s not above the law and that she can’t bring you down with her.” Kristen sat down in a bar chair and laid her head on the granite counter. All of a sudden, her phone rang. Kristen studied the number. It wasn’t saved in her phone, and she had a good feeling about who it could be. “Hello?” she asked as she answered the phone. “Kris? You gotta come get me. They arrested me for no reason. Nope. No reason. I’m just settin’ here. Please. You gotta help me. Bail me out,” Brittany said in a frantic voice. “No, I’m sorry. You got yourself in there, you have to get yourself out. I’m done cleaning up your messes,” Kristen said and hung up. She slammed her phone down on the counter. Her face fell into her hands as she began to weep. “What’s wrong baby girl?” her mom asked. “That was the first time I told her no. I feel so awful” she said as her sobs got heavier. It was a long and restless night for Kristen. She couldn’t help but think about all of the horrible things that might happen to Brittany in jail. What if she got jumped? Or molested? Or what if people were just plain mean to her? These questions ran through her mind over and over again. It was six a.m. and she had not slept a minute. Kristen lay there in her bed and stared at the ceiling fan slowly moving in circles. The sun was beginning to rise and paint the sky a fuchsia pink. It crept through the blinds, lighting up her room. She was startled by her phone ringing. “Hello?” Kristen asked. “Ms. Britt? This is Sargent Cooper. I’m sorry to call so early. Hope I didn’t wake you,” he said. “Honestly, I wasn’t even asleep. What can I do for you?” “I just wanted to let you that she’s going to be arraigned at eight a.m.” “Well thank you so much for telling me.” “Do you plan on coming?” “I don’t think I should. I might come to her actual day in court.” “Yes ma’am. I’ll be sure to contact you with details,” he said before hanging up. Kristen lay there in her bed, not moving a muscle. For once she knew that Britany was going to be okay and that she was going to get the help she needs. That thought was satisfying to Kristen. This was the last time she would have to pick Brittany up from the dirty ground. The courtroom was scarce at Brittany’s arraignment. The bailiff brought Brittany in and stood her next to her attorney at the defense table. The prosecutor was sitting at his table, taking notes in his notebook. The judge entered the courtroom and sat down in his chair. The prosecutor immediately stood up in respect for the judge. “How does the defendant plead?” he asked. “Not guilty,” Brittany said coldly. “Bail?” asked the judge. “Remand, your Honor. The defendant was found in possession of multiple illegal drugs on her and in her system. Her blood alcohol level was above legal limit and she is underage. She is considered a threat to her environment and herself, with no ties to the community,” the prosecutor said. “The defendant is remanded to the county jail until trial. Next case.” The bailiff approached Brittany and drug her out of the courtroom. “Hey. Easy there,” said Brittany in a seductive tone. “Shut up, crack whore,” the bailiff replied. “Do you talk to all of your criminals like this?” They approached the jail cell and the bailiff unlocked the door. He pushed Brittany into the six-by-six concrete block cell. “Cute. You act like I actually care about you and your feelings. Now shut up,” the bailiff said. Kristen was sitting in her Chemistry class when her phone rang. She excused herself from the class and emerged into the hall. “Hello?” “Ms. Britt? This is Sargent Cooper,” he said. “Hello, Sargent.” “I just wanted to update you on how arraignment went. They remanded her to jail until trail. The date has been set to Friday at eight a.m. Can you make it?” She would have to miss her Psychology class, but it would be worth it. “Yes sir, I will be there,” Kristen said. “Good, because the prosecutor is going to have you testify. It’s easier if you will already be there, so we don’t have to subpoena you. I will see you there,” he said before ending the call. Two days. She had two days to get her thoughts in order and figure out what she was going to wear. “BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP,” Kristen’s alarm screamed at five-thirty a.m. Kristen sat up in her bed, dreading the day that was ahead of her: the trial. She went through her daily routine of getting ready: brushing her teeth, washing her face, grabbing a cup of coffee, getting dressed, brushing her hair, and applying her makeup. “Kris, are you ready yet?’ her mom yelled across the house. “Just a minute, mom.” She picked up her purse and slid on her heels. Kristen was thrilled that her mom was going with her. She didn’t know if she could face Brittany alone. Their drive to the Malvern courthouse was long and quiet. They pulled into a parking spot and her mom started to get out of the car. When Kristen didn’t move, her mom said, “Hey, It’s going to be okay. Whatever happens, happens. Just remember that you’re doing this to help her.” Kristen didn’t say anything as she got out of the car. They arrived inside the courtroom and sat close to the back. Kristen was hoping that Brittany wouldn’t see her. The bailiff brought Brittany in and sat her at the defense table. Shortly after, the judge entered the room. “Order. Order,” he said to the court. Kristen managed to drown out everything around her, that is, until the prosecutor said, “The People call Kristen Britt to the stand.” Kristen stood up and walked down the aisle. She could feel all eyes on her. Kristen glanced over at Brittany and became upset from the scowl that was being thrown her way. She sat down at the witness stand and fiddled with her fingers. “Good morning, Ms. Britt,” the prosecutor said. “Morning,” Kristen replied with a nod. “Can you tell the court your relationship with the defendant?” “We have been best friends since we were eleven years old. Last summer, Brittany began experimenting with different alcohols and drugs. I couldn’t stop her. She was out of control and, quite frankly, I was so scared that I was going to get a call that she was dead.” “What made you step forward?” “She was killing herself with these drugs. She needs help. I don't want her to lose her life. The drugs aren't worth it. I'm just trying to look out for her.” “That’s not for you to decide, bitch,” Brittany yelled. “Please, control your client,” the judge said. “It seems like you care about your friend a lot. What happened on the day in question?” said the prosecutor. “As usual, Brittany gave me an absurd story as to why I needed to come over to her house. When I got there, she couldn’t even walk straight. She pulled me out of my car and I could smell the marijuana on her. It was fresh. She had dried blood under her left nostril, which told me she had recently snorted a line. I could smell the liquor when she spoke. Then, she intentionally made one of my close friends mad at me just because I left her house. She is not the same person that she used to be. She’s a very sick person. Brittany needs help. I don’t want to see her on the news, dead from overdosing. She needs to be helped.” “You stupid bitch,” Brittany screamed from the defense table. “Control your client,” the judge said sternly. Brittany ignored the judge. “You set me up you little whore. I’m going to fuckin’ kill you,” Brittany yelled right before she jumped across the table. Brittany made a beeline for Kristen. The prosecutor jumped in front of Kristen and the bailiff called for backup. The bailiff managed to grab Brittany’s arm and slow her down. Two other police officers barged into the courtroom. Brittany was putting up a major fight. The bailiff got Brittany to the ground and sat on her back. He forced Brittany’s hands behind her back took out his handcuffs, cuffing her hands behind back. “We need foot chains,” the bailiff yelled. Foot chains were brought into the courtroom and chained to Brittany’s feet. The bailiff got off of her and yanked her off the ground. “Let’s go, missy,” he said as he escorted Brittany out of the courtroom. Kristen sobbed harder than ever. “Ms. Britt, you may step down,” said the judge. The prosecutor helped Kristen down and walked her back to her mom. Kristen’s mom handed her a tissue. Her mom began rubbing her back as Kristen put her head in her mom’s lap. “After what I have just seen, I am making an executive decision. I declare that the defendant, Brittany Waters, is a threat to herself and her environment. She is hereby sentenced to twenty-five years to life in federal lockup. Court is adjourned,” the judge said before rising and dismissing himself. “Mom?” Kristen asked. “Yes, sweetheart?” “She almost killed me. I was trying to help her and she almost killed me,” Kristen said with tears pouring from her brown eyes. “Brittany deserved the sentencing she got. It was also a crime for her to threaten you in open court. Don’t worry, she won’t ever be able to hurt you whether it be physically or emotionally,” Kristen’s mom said while rubbing her back. “Should I visit her?” “Give it time. Let her come off of the drugs. You need to find out who you are without Brittany in your life. If you still want to see her a year from now, then go see her. Everyone needs closure. It’s up to you to decide what is going to close that chapter in your life.” Kristen’s mom was right. She needed to be her own person. Kristen had done everything she could do to help Brittany, now it was up to Brittany herself. She had finally done what she always wanted to do: save Brittany’s life.