Before I delve into last night’s “events,” I want to make a note on my literary progress. I finished The Crucible a few days ago, and I plan to review it this week. I am now halfway through New Moon, which in itself is an accomplishment for me (well, getting through a 560-page novel in the Twilight series is tough, even for a bookworm like me). Today I’m publishing my first article for this week (and my 92nd in the long run) on the Examiner.
Now, to narrate what happened to me and my mom last night…it was around 11:30 p.m., and thankfully we were both still awake in our car. A change from a now twisted, nasty pattern, a policewoman came up to our car this time, interrogating us like last time (my blog entry, Third time’s the charm…or is it?). However, unlike that police officer who promptly left us alone after scrutinizing our situation, this one had a brief preliminary interrogation, then she literally left us alone, and then (surprise or shock?) she came back, demanding our IDs and claiming that she had to check if we were “wanted.” Wanted? Meaning like dangerous criminals? First of all, dangerous criminals do not set themselves as targets by sleeping in their cars—they have connections. Second of all, since when do the police care? It has been almost 3 months since that last police officer bugged us, and since then not one single police officer has even passed the street where we are sleeping. From people loitering in their vehicles in our area for hours at a time to random drivers trying to ram our car when they pass by us, these circumstances have excluded the appearance of any police officer, which is hardly coincidental. These bozos always seem to pick on us, and no one else is ever around to witness this. Anyway, we were saved from her mindless questioning by the re-appearance of a familiar face—the last police officer who was checking on us in May. He quickly “cleared our names” with the policewoman and, ironically, wished us a good night. Nevertheless, both of them stayed nearby for hours on that street, and even though they left at some point, police officers (whether the same ones or different ones) returned to loiter at 3 a.m. until 7 a.m. What a friendly reminder of our recent experience. I swear my body was shaking through the entire ordeal like a magnitude 8 earthquake. We have had very bad experiences with the Fresno Police Department (and the Clovis Police Department), as made evident by my older blog entries. I now hate the police, and unfortunately, fear them too. Both emotions grip me hard and always manage to shake me when these things happen, and undeservedly so. We have done nothing wrong. We have committed no crimes. We only reported other people’s crimes, and look at how we are discriminated against. It’s enough to make my blood boil and my body shake with rage. As if the whole situation we’re in weren’t enough…only more sorrow and pain seem to visit us, leaving no room for any peace or freedom…or joy.