There are times in life when you are falsely accused and there is just no way to prove your innocence. Sometimes you are just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Other times you are stitched up. On July 23rd 2010 I was charged with failed terrorist attempt in New York. My name was all over the newspapers, I received thousands of hate mail and I was summoned to court two days later.
Before this whole incident I had lived a normal life, I lived with my family in West Virginia, I had two older brothers, Ethan and Jacob. I played football for my school team, the warriors, and kept a clean four-point-oh transcript, I had loads of friends and even a girlfriend, Kadie.
It all changed when I was judged. "Guilty." by the Central America Court of Justice and I was given three options;
1) Serve my time in prison.
2) Lifetime of community service.
3) Reform school in England.
I chose option three and standing there, in some desolate place in England, looking at the tall iron gates I was terrified. The whole culture was different; voices sounded around me all in eccentric English accents, each of the pupils were waving goodbye to their parents and dragging their cases in through the gates. I had already said farewell to my parents and brothers but I hadn't received a hug or an "I love you." My parents hadn't spoken to me since I was convicted, I was alone, petrified and lost. The taxi pulled away and I was left standing there with my solitary case, I sighed and pulled the case towards the entrance.
I came across a girl having trouble with her three cases,
"Do you need a hand?" I asked, she blew some hair out of her face and smiled gratefully,
"Could you take this one?" she handed me the handle of a fat, red suitcase,
"Where to?" I asked, she shrugged,
"Is it your first time here too?" she asked, I nodded,
"Is it obvious?" I joked, she laughed bitterly,
"I'm guessing we meet in there and look at those pieces of paper," she pointed inside the dull grey building and the groups of pupils gazing up at lists of paper. We made our way inside and I peered at the list...
Harry Clarke - 47
"It's your dorm room number," said a dark boy behind, "took me five minutes to figure it out," he laughed hard and punched my shoulder as if we were friends, I backed away,
"Thanks," I mumbled and looked for the girl, I met her dark brown eyes and made my way to her, she took the case back.
"I think I can manage it from here," she added, "I'm Kerry by the way, come by my dorm it's number 32," She winked, I nodded, smiled and left, now to find my room.