Dying of the Light

Six Months Ago

"Well, I guess that lady could hit High C really well," he says with a smile, finishing his notation before he sets the pen down. "Just keeping track of my sales for the day." It comes off as somewhat evasive, but not entirely so. As if there's some truth to it, but something that's missing at the same time. "Hopefully they'll let you out of this. Though I guess then you'll probably get slammed with 'Heiress gets preferential treatment' headlines."

It seems some people can never win.

"Well I'll take those headlines over the ones that day '20 Years to Life for Heiress.' But thanks for the water, I won't forget it." Whether she will or she won't is really up in the air. Hallis has always been a little bit flighty, but then again, no one other than her grandmother has just listened to her story without judging her as insane or intoxicated. "It's hard to hit high C, clearly. If that woman can hit it without trying… I guess it's just as strange as a kid popping out of the middle of nowhere right into my car." Raising her hand in a farewell wave, she turns and begins walking back toward the court house. Along the way, she pauses to straighten her clothing and brush imaginary dirt from her sleeve. Who knows, maybe it will give her a little more favorable light in the face of the jury.

Three Weeks Ago

Traffic along 152 hadn't been too horrible along the drive back after meeting with Prometheus. Hallis, George, and Asshole (the GPS) were navigating along the road just a little faster than usual due to the oncoming darkness. It's not a commonly known fact but Hallis, much like her grandmother, does not like to wear glasses because they might mar her otherwise perfect looks. This results is a very unfortunate case of night blindness.

It's somewhere near Pawtucket, the little used back road is slick from the newly fallen snow. Why Prometheus couldn't have had the meeting somewhere nice and temperate like Aruba, Hallis will never know. Probably because of the poor people he invited, though that really isn't their fault either. Thinking back to the meeting, Hallis glances at her dog and gives him a little kissy face. "You yike your pink hair? Don't you shmoopy? Don't you? Yesh yesh you do!!" Of course, canoodling with a standard poodle is not the safest of driving conditions and when Hallis glances back at the road she's a little surprised to find a pair of headlights coming in her direction.

"OH SHIT!!" The receding sound of the horn of the passer by fades in the distance as Hallis swerves back to her side of the road. The front left tire hits a patch of black ice and the front left and begins careening through the middle of the road. "Oh god… oh god… oh god…" The young socialite panics and completely forgets the road training she never had, cranking the wheel exactly the opposite way that she should in order to get out of the spin.

When the car comes to a skidding halt, the young woman rests her head on the steering wheel for a moment to collect herself and her thoughts. Her eyes are closed so no one can blame her for not noticing at first. George's whine and his scratching paw on her shoulder causes her to lift her head….

…Only to see a bright blinding light.

The collision between the two cars was inevitable without some serious intervention and despite Tyson's long journey made on foot along 152, he had no desire for that kind of miraculous event. Instead he operated covertly knowing that even with all his powers, he still could not be in two places at once. A couple of warp holes to suck the would-be-victims out of harm's way and they would then find themselves sitting just outside the flaming wreck, Tyson slowly approaching, appearing awestruck on Hallis' right, "Whoa… we need to call 911 and get the people out of the cars fast…" Looking down at the woman and her pink dog he raised his eyebrows curiously, "What are you doing sitting out here?"

Frozen in place, Hallis' eyes are still glued to the spot where she first saw the light. Then she looks toward the wreck and down to her dog, then over at Tyson. "Am. Am I dead? Are you an angel? I saw a bright light. But there wasn't a tunnel…" She looks down at her traveling clothes and wrinkles her nose slightly just to shake her head. "I'm a ghost, aren't I? George and I are ghosts?" She seems to be looking toward Tyson for answers, the young man is on foot, after all.

The flaming wreck is mostly made up of her car. The driver of the semi truck that bowled over the vehicle has since stopped and is racing toward the crumpled wreck. Hallis just watches on, still stunned. "That was a rental… It's a good thing I'm dead, because it's going to cost a fortune to get it fixed. Do you think asshole GPS systems go to heaven or hell?"

Tyson kept looking down at Hallis, she was in shock but he did not want or need people wondering if he was an angel. His actions to prevent such an outcome were all ready in action and as the truck driver approached, the footloose boy felt confident in his secrets being kept safe. Kneeling down close to her, he reached out to pet the dog- only to have his hand pass through it. "An angel? No…" He started to laugh, "But I do think there is no substitute for a good travel companion- even a good GPS…" He thought about that statement and stopped laughing, "Trust me."

The other driver reached them but was looking only at Hallis and her dog, "What are you doing driving like you're some crash test dummy? Is the color on that dog reflecting light in your car or something?"

"Wait… you can see me? But you're not dead too." Her thin eyebrows furrow together and the young socialite ponders this conundrum for a moment. "So, I can't be in Heaven, and I feel cold, so I can't be in Hell." Then she blanches and looks over at Tyson, whose hand just passed through her dog. "Oh no! I'm in purgatory, aren't I?! I didn't make up for all the bad things that I did and I'm going to be a ghost forever!! And cold!!" Tears begin spilling down her cheeks, not only because she's going to spend eternity without a coat, but there won't be any new shoes, new anything for that matter.

The truck driver seems quite aghast as he stares at her, almost dumbstruck. She didn't even answer his questions!

Tyson saw that he wasn't going to get out of this easily and so he said the first thing that came to mind, looking at her dark blue eyes with his brown ones, "You've figured it out. This world is purgatory and the only way you're getting to heaven is by making up for all the bad we've done." He sighed, shaking his head, "I guess the best thing is not to be too worried about the bad in the meantime." The teen then offered the same hand that flowed through her dog to Hallis, "Remember how I said you could trust me? Well, right now you can focus on moving forward. Let me help you up."

The driver, duly ignored, wanders back to his truck to call in the accident. He won't be making his delivery on time and there's going to be a lot of paperwork to do. He disappears into the cab of his vehicle for a good while. The stretch of road is fairly far away from the nearest town, and there's a tiny little blonde that seems insane sitting in the middle of the road.

When Tyson offers his hand, Hallis reaches up and slips hers into it and grips it tightly to pull herself up. "Moving forward? But… the light is gone. I really don't understand. Are you supposed to teach me how to do this?" She begins to shiver, it was really warm in her car, but it's very cold in the snowy wilderness and her coat just happens to be burning inside the crumpled BMW. When the young woman finally stands, the large dog whines and nuzzles close to her.

Tyson grips Hallis' hand and the pair stood up, staring down the flaming car and innocent bystanders wishing they would get out of their way. The girl's question worried him, "Sorry, even I don't know the best way to get things done…." But that statement was definitely a downer, "But, I'll be your friend and help you along, how about that? My name is Tyson." He introduced himself, realizing he was still holding onto her hand.

Hallis doesn't let go of Tyson's hand as he makes his introduction. "I'm Hallis and thanks, I think I need that." She really doesn't know how the dead are supposed to get things done, she really doesn't feel any different than when she was alive… just a lot colder. And there's one thing she knows for sure, all dogs don't go to Heaven, because George is standing right beside her.

Two Weeks Ago

Manhattan Psychiatric Hospital

The sunny yellow bricks on the outside of the hospital do nothing to brighten the conditions on the inside. It's no fault of the staff or the conditions, it's just that the inmates all have their own shares of gloom and doom to bring down the atmosphere. Of course if it was a happy place, like Disneyland, they probably wouldn't be here. They'd likely be living normal and quite productive lives, they're just not capable of it at this moment.

The 14th floor is residence to some of the more peculiar cases, one in particular, a certain blonde woman that showed up as a transfer from another medical facility. Her ambulance had been chased by a few SUV's belonging to various paparazzi photographers, their camera lights flashing as they pursued the emergency vehicle, stopping just outside the gated entrance reserved especially for these occasions. The young woman had been there for about a week now, in a state of delusion and thus heavily medicated to keep her from harming herself. There were no outward signs that she was a danger to anyone else and so she was allowed to mingle with the rest of the population. Mingling that never happens because the rest of the mentally disturbed give her a wide berth.

It's that time of the week again, where Dr. Fred Stone makes his rounds at the Manhattan Psychiatric Hospital. While a psychologist and not a psychiatrist, he still has work to do. He has a new patient to check up on today, Hallis Van Cortlandt. It's his first actually high profile patient as yet. After reviewing her file, he heads up to the 14th floor to meet her. There comes a knock on her door as Fred slowly enters. "Miss Van Cortlandt?" He asks, more out of courtesy than actually wondering if this is her room.

The thin blonde at the window doesn't even give a twitch of acknowledgment. The nurse that accompanied Dr. Stone hands him one of her charts and gives him a rather pitiable smile, "She's been like this since she came. Good luck." Then she pivots on her heel and marches back to her station. No, Hallis hasn't been any trouble at all as a patient. She's taken her prescribed medication as directed, she stays in her room except when escorted to the main room for activity time, but all the while, she just looks out the window. Waiting.

Fred smiles softly at the nurse, nodding. "Thank you." He takes a look once more at the chart that he was just handed before walking further in. "Ms. Van Cortlandt, I'm Dr. Stone. How are you feeling today?" At this point, he's not sure what to expect from Hallis. But he's determined to stick it to the end…of the session.

Turning, the blonde gazes at the doctor with large blue eyes that just aren't focused quite right. "I need to find George." She says softly, her voice thick and disjointed from the strong medication. "They took him away and I can't find him anywhere I look." She's unkempt, thin, drawn out and the dark circles under her eyes lean toward restless. Her chart says that she's been sleeping up to 16 hours each day, so it can't be that. "I need to find him before I go."

Fred smiles and motions to another chair in the room. "Do you mind if I have a seat?" He asks, before more to take the chair and sit himself down near Hallis. Facing her, he says, "Who's George?" He asks softly. "Why did they take him away from you?" He asks, noting her exceptionally haggard appearance really for the first time. "Where will you be going?"

His question about the seat is ignored, he'll just take it anyway, they all do. The diminutive woman is not so selfish as to insist that the only chair in her room be reserved for her. "To heaven, my dog and I have to get to heaven before we disappear forever." Her answer is so simple, perhaps the source of all the paranoia around her. But how much of it is drug induced and how much is her true answer. None of the inmates actually want to be here, they all have a reason for leaving.

Fred listens intently to Hallis as she speaks, nodding along. What's strange, however, is that he's not taking any notes about what she says. "To heaven? Why are you going to heaven?" He asks, crossing his legs. "What are you disappearing from? Are you…trying to run from something? Or someone?" He takes a small breath in, letting it out slowly.

"I'm dead," Hallis says her voice hitching and turning a little hoarse. She was much too young to die, she really didn't deserve it. "I was hit by a semi on the road. The angel that found me said I was in purgatory, I have to do good things or else I'll never get to heaven. Then I'll disappear forever. I read a book once when I was alive, lost souls that never get to heaven get trapped in some kind of place that's nowhere." This isn't the fate she wants, what she wants is to get out and do what she needs to do to get to heaven.

Fred tilts his head to the side ever so slightly. "Okay, you're dead. But, if you're dead…what are you doing here? Why were you brought here? Certainly if you were in purgatory and you were required to do good deeds to get into heaven, wouldn't you be outside, beyond these walls, where you could do some good?" He smiles.

"Because I've been so bad, I pretended to be good, but I was really selfish and bad. I didn't do the things that I was supposed to. The devil is making me stay, when I try to leave, the doors are all locked." Not that Hallis would be allowed to leave on her own anyway. the court order has seen to that. Without a clear psychological evaluation, she's likely to stay in the facility for a very long time. "Are you another angel to see if I repented? I do, I'm sorry for everything… I just want to go."

Fred offers a small smile. "There's no devil in this place, trust me." He nods a little. Hallis is not, of course, allowed out because of her mental state, which obviously isn't helping her at all. "What if I wasn't an angel? And what if I wasn't a demon? What if I'm just another person just like you?" He asks softly.

"The angel said that I was in purgatory and that I had to do good things." Hallis insists, she's nothing if not determined to hold on to her unwavering faith in her own delusion. After all, she's dead, hit by a truck on the road near Pawtucket. "I died near Pawtucket, I'm sure it was all over the news. I know they watch the news here… I saw the wreck. The angel's hand went through George but he touched me. That's how I know that I'm dead. If I wasn't dead, he would have gone through me too."

"If you're dead, how did you watch the wreckage on the television?" Fred asks cautiously. "If God wanted you to do good things, he wouldn't be showing you the wreckage, don't you think?" Comes Fred's logical conclusion. Although, nothing about this is quite logical. "What if the angel was really there to save you from the wreckage? Perhaps you survived because of the angel."

The questions seem to confuse and agitate the woman enough for her to frown. "I think you should go now," she says slowly, her voice still soft and not showing any outward signs of hostility. He might just be here to test her strength and resolve. In the past few days, she had read the copy of the bible left for her by a concerned friend, obviously this entire ordeal is just a test. Like Jesus in the desert. Dr. Stone is Satan sent to test her faith.

Fred shakes his head. "Of course." He says, standing. "If you require anything, you can call the nurses and they'll come and find me." He smiles, moving to exit the room. "Have a pleasant day, Ms. Van Cortlandt."

One Week Ago

Manhattan Psychiatric Hospital

"You're not in purgatory," Claire replies simply, lips curling downwards into a frown as a mark of her disappointment. It's a let-down more than any real judgment. A world-weary sigh follows, heaving her breast. She thought she… She thought she could help. This is sounding like a complete waste of time. "Not unless I am, too." There's a pause, as though she's about to let Hallis take her place in the conversation again, but then she cuts back in. "And, before you say anything, I'm not."

Looking around the lunch room, Hallis nods just once and sighs deeply. "Okay." Just the tone and influx of the word makes it seem like Hallis is just a little disbelieving of Claire's last statement. "So… who sent you to see me?" Hopefully not someone from one of the magazines, there've been a few photographers trying to sneak in already but Claire isn't holding a camera of any kind, at least not out in the open. "Why are you here?"

"Because the person who told me I needed to see you. Said I needed to find you and take me with me," Claire finally relents to admit, the confession in a low voice. She sighs in resignation, and then her eyebrows lift upwards as she asks. "You like travelling?"

A surge of hope courses through the young socialite. "Oh.. Yes! Yes I do!" Her voice isn't exactly hushed and one of the orderlies perks up and looks in their direction, along with almost all of the inmates… aside from Rosie in the corner. For Hallis' part, she's actually excited at the prospect and she all but ignores the stares of the other people in the large common room. Then she leans in again and whispers conspiratorially, "Where are we going?"

Claire rears her head back. Angela? Wherever you are, if you're dreaming and foreseeing this conversation? YOU SUCK. This girl is weird and creepy and… and… and… ARGH.

There's another sigh. Bennet's still a teenager. She's allowed a disproportionate amount of sighing. "Haiti, I think." That was, hopefully, what her grandmother meant. "Look. If… If I give you a distraction, do you think you could make a break for it? Or do I need to come back with reinforcements? You're the one who knows how they handle disruptions."

Looking over at the door, Hallis shrugs. "Uhm… They usually handle disruptions with needles and special jackets." Claire really doesn't look like the type of girl who would appreciate either treatment and Hallis isn't the kind of girl that could handle the alone time. Her blonde eyebrows furrow in the middle and a small crease appears between her eyebrows. "If they think someone's escaping they lock all the doors. There's too many floors for me to run down and the elevator would stop. But I've seen other people get released on day passes?" If they really are in purgatory it might be possible to get there and back in a day, if not… well she wouldn't be in the country when the police come looking.

That's something I was actually thinking a lot about in the hospital. I feel like, you know, because I'm always in the magazine that I can actually raise awareness for so many things. I can do so much instead of just whatever, you know? I want to help raise money for kids and this Haiti thing…

I don't know…

I want to be a good role model.

Some days, it's just overwhelming. I feel like I've been confined my whole life in this little cell. Sometimes it's worse than jail, you know?

One of the happiest days of my life — it's so hard to describe. It was so exciting to know that I was going to be free, I'd get to be in the fresh air and look up at the sky and the stars and be outside and stuff. It was all pandemonium, as soon as I was acquitted I just ran over to my grandmother and gave her a big hug. It was really exciting.

I have no idea. I'm just living my life.

From the moment that I wake up to the moment that I go to sleep, they're outside my house, they follow me all day long.

The hospital was worse than jail, you know? It's like this tiny room with just a bed. There's a chair but usually other people sat in it while they asked me questions. I'd only answer sometimes. They're like Nazi vultures.

They wouldn't even let me call my Grandmother. Most of the other patients were allowed phone time, but I didn't get anything. It was so unfair.

A lot of people would just pretend that they knew me to get in.

When you're in here, you basically have no connection with the outside world. I didn't even get to have my dog. They kept telling me I had to focus on myself to get better, but there's nothing wrong with me. It's all them.

It was this very traumatic experience, but God made it happen for a reason. It's like this big time out to find out what's important and let me know that God loves me, even if everyone else doesn't. It's really really hard.

In the beginning, it was really hard, really hard for me. I mean, you find out you're dead and it's like, whoah.. you know? It's kind of a blow. So kind of traumatic. But after a while, I had to accept that I could either make the best of it or make the worst of it. So I just went with the motto don't serve the time; let the time serve you.

The whole idea of being dead is really scary. I'm not ready to die — I'm too pretty to die. It's just so hard to be so alone. No one understands, every night I'm like, dreaming that I die in a different way. It's just really scary.

I think the hardest thing on me is that I'll never be able to tell my daddy and mom that I understand. I mean, they're real jerks about everything they did, but it really wasn't my fault.

I hope that by the end, when I'm done in purgatory that I'll be able to go to Heaven, I don't think God wants me to go to hell. God knows that I'm a good person, that's why I'm getting this chance to be good before the light comes again.

Sometimes, I wish that I'd gotten the chance when I was alive to make things better. I don't know. I could have changed my life forever, I wasn't all bad. Some people really liked me. Some people even loved me. So I couldn't be all bad.

HILTON: You know. It was also, you know, really scary just to have so many people, you know, people on the news telling people what street I live on. So it's kind of dangerous.

HILTON: It was a shock. Everything, you know, going from being so happy to be at home with my family, and then I'm pulled — I'm not supposed to be going to court the next day. The sheriff said, stay at home. Then all of a sudden, that's when the police arrived and (inaudible) out of bed. They're telling me that they're going to handcuff me and then bring me back to the courthouse. I had no idea what was going on. I was in complete shock. It was unbelievable. I was terrified.

HILTON: I just had to deal with it. I didn't know, you know, if I was going to be there, I had to make the best of it. So I meditated. I read letters. I wrote in my journal. And I would just close my eyes and literally pretend that I was somewhere else, just imagining like I was in some, like, special place sometimes. It was really difficult, but I've made it through.

HILTON: It was one of the most terrifying days of my life.

HILTON: I was obviously very upset. And I just — just would talk — you know, just talking to myself, just saying, Paris, be strong, you can do this.

HILTON: You know, my lawyers even said that with this kind — it wasn't for a DUI, it was for a suspended license — that people only — I was walking in there assuming I was just going to get community service. That's what my lawyer said at the time. So when he sentenced me to that much time in jail, it was shocking, because that doesn't happen, ever.

HILTON: Actually, I was playing a trick on everyone. Because outside my house, outside the Lynwood facility, there were paparazzi, I heard, from all around the world. So I thought, if I went to the MTV Awards, snuck out during the show, I could get there unnoticed. And that's what we did. No one even saw me going in.

HILTON: Yes, because everyone was asking me at the show, they were like, oh, so you're going to the after party? And I was like, yeah, I'll be there. I knew the whole time I was there that I was going to be checking myself right into jail.

So it was very surreal and very…

HILTON: Of course I was very nervous. You know, nobody knew I was going in that night. But I was trying to be strong.

HILTON: I think in life, everyone makes mistakes and you have to learn and grow from them. And I've been a little immature in the past and made some wrong choices. But I learned from them, and I think that makes me the person I am today.

HILTON: I've gotten rid of a lot of people. I think — especially being in Los Angeles, there is a lot of people out here that like people for certain reasons, and I don't want people who are not going to be beneficial to my life, who don't want positive things in my life, and I had to cut a lot of people out, which I'm happy…

HILTON: Well, I had a lot of time alone, so I would write a lot. I actually have a journal with all the — I left it at home…

HILTON: Yes, I did. OK. This is one of the notes that I wrote. "They say when you reach a crossroad or a turning point in life, it really doesn't matter how we got there, but it's what we do next after we got there. Usually you arrive there by adversity, and then it is then and only then that we find out who we truly are and what we're truly made of. It's a process, a gift and a journey, and if we can travel it alone, although the road may be rough at the beginning, you find an ability to walk it. A way to start fresh again. It's neither a downfall nor a failure, but a new beginning."

And I felt like this is a new beginning for me, to see jail — and I just used it as a journey to figure out myself and who I am and what I want to do. And there's just so much more to me than what people think.

HILTON: Yes. I have always loved to write. In school, I loved being in creative writing classes. I write scripts. I love to read.

HILTON: Yes. I definitely, you know, wish I knew now what, you know, back then. And so I definitely, when I have a daughter, I have a lot of good advice for her.

HILTON: It's hard, you know, the media, every time you are in a relationship, they all make up stories. And if I (inaudible) someone who doesn't care about that, and someone who is just going to love me for me and not pay attention to all the other gossip.

HILTON: I feel like I've started my journey and I'm going to continue every day to find out more and more about myself.

HILTON: Something — when I get nervous or shy, my voice gets really high. I've been doing that ever since I was a little girl. And that's something I don't like that I do. I like when I talk in my normal voice, but sometimes I go down, and that's something I'm trying to change about myself.

HILTON: Yeah, I'd love to work with them and I think me, by doing my sentence and doing my time, I have served as a bit of an example and I want to continue to do so.

HILTON: I'm just — I'm not a big drinker. I'm not really into it. I think socially people do sometimes when they go out but it's not something that I really care about.

HILTON: People make up so many crazy stories. The things I read about and things I see is not the person who I am. It really baffles me sometimes when I read things. The places I've never been. People I've never met. It's really shocking to me.

HILTON: I don't — I just feel like when you do that you put more attention to something and when something is not true I just don't pay attention to it because I know my friends and family know the true me and that's all that really matters to me and I feel like by defending yourself for things that aren't true, all you are doing is making people talk about it more.

HILTON: Yeah. I just — I don't know. From — People just make up stories and there's nothing I can really do about it. I just don't like to dignify it with a response.

HILTON: You know, everything happened to a (ph) reason (ph) I went and found out a lot about myself and I'm going to continue going down that path.

HILTON: Yeah. I think it's good to talk with someone if you're feeling sad or something's wrong. But usually I talk to my family about everything.

HILTON: Well, it's — attention deficit disorder so it's hard to pay attention to things and I don't know, I just …

HILTON: I'm a social person. I love to dance. I love to go out. I love music. But a lot of people don't know that I'm a businesswoman, and I run several businesses. And I like to go out, as well, and socialize.

HILTON: Well, a misconception that I always hear is Paris doesn't work for a living. She just, you know, gets money from her family. And I completely disagree with that. I've been earning (ph) on my own, by myself. I've not taken any money from my family. I work very hard. I run a business. I had a book on the "New York Times" best seller list. I'm on my — TV show. Did an album. Do movies.

HILTON: I think it's people just focused on the party part. And my business and what I do is at my office, and in my meetings. And that's not really made public, because then, you know, I'm in a board room talking with everyone who works with me. So people just don't know about it.

HILTON: No. I just like to go out and have fun with my friends. I'm an Aquarius. We're social people.

HILTON: No. I realized that there's a lot more important things in my life. And there's a lot more things to do. And I'm frankly sick of it. You know, I've been going out for a long time now. And yes, it's fun, but it's not going to be the mainstay of my life anymore.

HILTON: I've seen her with her kids. She loves her kids. And I think its hard for anyone when you're in the spotlight so much. Its very overwhelming at such, like, a young age.

I feel like a lot of these girls, you know, they move out here at a young age. They are given, you know, too much, too soon. And it is hard. And I'm hard that I have my parents who love and support me so much and I don't know what I'd do without them.

HILTON: I now appreciate and have gratitude for everything, like, I really have a new appreciation for life.

HILTON: It just all happened, you know, so fast. And everything — it is overwhelming, I think, for any young girl — but I've handled it well.

HILTON: Yes. When people say that I don't understand, I just feel like I'm any other girl. I just, I don't know, I have a good heart …

HILTON: I was locked in a cell for three and a half weeks. It was a horrible experience so …

HILTON: You know, its going to be there and I see some celebrities they throw water at the paparazzi or give the middle finger or do things like that, and I don't — I think it makes you look bad. I just live my life and I don't pay attention. These people are doing their jobs.

HILTON: I've always been religious. I went to Catholic school as a child. And I've always had a sense of spirituality, but even more so now, after being in jail.

HILTON: I don't know what I was thinking. I was just like, oh my God, I cannot believe I'm here. It was just — it didn't hit me that I was really in jail until I've actually gotten in a cell. So I don't know, taking that picture was just very surreal. I felt like I was in like a bad movie.

HILTON: You know, I think the crime did not fit the, you know, fit the punishment. I did my time. And you know, it was really hard, but I don't feel like I deserved to go to jail for it.

HILTON: I told the officer because I called my lawyer at that point and they said you're allowed to drive for work related purposes and I was at a business meeting before that.

HILTON: Yes, I did. And actually when we went into court, they said that I hadn't but the lady was sitting right in the courtroom and she said, "I will testify and say that Paris finished the course" and they wouldn't let her do it.

This I wrote — this is about the girls that are in there. "I have compassion for those I left behind at the prison. I am lucky enough that I have a home and a family to go to when I get out of here. Most of the women in here don't have that option. They have to go back on the streets and some of them end up even back here because they don't have anywhere else to go.

"I want to help set up a place where these women can get themselves back on their feet. A place with food, shelter and clothing and programs, kind of a transitional home. I know I can make a difference and hopefully stop this vicious circle of these people going in and out of jail."

Because they told me the average amount for a woman going in there, into Lynwood is 7.83 times. So literally women just go out on the street, they have nowhere to go and then they end up right back in there. It's a vicious circle. Some of these people are mothers and then their children end up in the system and it's just — really, it's sad.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License