About Face

by Sarah Artis

In August 2001, my older sister, Emma, and her husband of three months were arrested for possession with the intent to traffic drugs. They were parked at a gas station in Whiterock, Canada, a few kilometers from the U.S. border with ten pounds of marijuana stuffed into the spare tire of their Ford pick-up--enough dope to fill a garbage bag. Flaps of heroin for personal use were hidden in their pockets. My sister describes the ordeal with disbelief.

"At first I was pretty like, 'This isn't happening.' And then when I heard the sirens and stuff, I went into shock. I just remember I was terrified and crying for mom. I couldn't believe it was really happening and thought it was going to stop."

My sister was 26. She had been depressed and addicted to food, alcohol, drugs, or a relationship on and off since the age of 13. The year after high school, she almost drank herself to death in England. The summer after, Emma was heavy into raving and crystal meth; her eyelashes started to fall out. Her gnarliest and last drug of choice was "tar," a form on heroin smoked on tinfoil.

"Basically, I'd been on this pattern since I was in grade nine. I'd leave [home], have a crazy adventure and get into a sh*tload of trouble or adventures. Then I'd come back to Mom and Dad's and get thoroughly depressed and hate myself and want to commit suicide."

Like all of us though, Emma was simply looking for peace.

"My whole life I've just been looking for answers and I think me doing drugs and things was just another way of looking for answers, trying to find the way. Albeit it wasn't a very logical and responsible way, it was a way."

The cops drove Emma, handcuffed, to the Whiterock RCMP (Royal Canadian Mountain Police) station. The captive was placed in a cell with another girl her age, also a drug addict. A toilet with no cover stood in the middle of the cell where everyone could see.

Unfortunately, the fateful events occurred on a Friday evening. The courts didn't open again until Monday. Emma spent four days locked in her cell going through drug withdrawal: she had diarrhea, the sweats and the shakes. Unable to read, sleep or do much of anything, she passed the time staring at her sparkly blue painted toenails and the colorful title pages of books our mom had sent. Emma's husband was being held in the same place but they were in separate worlds.

"I kept calling to [him]. I was scared. He kept saying, 'Get them to take you to the hospital.' At that point I was thinking, 'You're a f-ing loser.' I was so mad that all he could think of was getting more drugs and I was thinking, 'This is what got us into the problem and all you can talk about is getting more.'"

Emma's memories are blurry. She describes her time in jail "like one long day."

On the Monday morning, wearing the same jeans, t-shirt and flip flops in which she was arrested, Emma's hands and feet were shackled. The cops had taken her belt so her pants kept falling down; she was sickly skinny. She and the other prisoners spent the day at the courthouse waiting. My sister was full of emotion.

"I felt so stupid because I was so scared and I so didn't know what was going on. I didn't feel like I belonged. I just couldn't believe that I was so naïve to think that what I was doing couldn't get me into trouble. I just kept looking for signs that it was going to be okay. I felt so ashamed."

Her case was one of the last "ups" of the day. The judge set bail and my father, luckily, was willing to pay. The cashiers were closed, though, so my sister had to spend one last night in captivity at the Burnaby Corrections Centre for Women (BCCW).

"This was where my big eye opener was. I remember the women there. They were all prostitutes. They were talking about how they would cheat their tricks. I kind of realized I had a choice: to go live this life that I was living or change."

Getting arrested might have been the best thing that happened to my sister. She has now been clean for almost three-and-a-half years.

Life is not perfect, but with a self-assured voice, the new woman she is states, "My life today compared to my life before is so much more rich. I get to actually experience life and not just be a zombie."

Emma was acquitted of all the charges against her and she has made good on her decision to change. She and her now ex-husband have not spoken for over two years. In her third year of Emily Carr, a prestigious Canadian art school, Emma is completely clean and has even quit smoking.

The Author

Sarah Artis is lost and has only recently accepted that she will never be found. She has spent the past few years living, working, travelling and struggling for money all over the world, seeking adventure, wisdom and feelings of peace. Temporarily settled in her hometown, Vancouver, Canada, Sarah hopes to graduate with a certificate in journalism in April 2006.