"Ma'am, go back inside. I know what I'm doing. I have this under control." Linda didn't go back inside. She stayed right where she was, recording everything and her voice getting louder.
"You're making a mistake. That's his house. That's his package. Let him go." Preston ignored her.
He turned his attention back to Elijah, who was still crying, still struggling, still trying to pull away. Preston's patience was gone. His voice dropped into something colder and harder. "Stop struggling right now or I'm going to taser you." Elijah was 12 years old.
He was terrified. He didn't understand what was happening or why this officer wouldn't listen to him. And he couldn't stop crying or struggling because every instinct in his body was screaming at him to get away. Preston pulled the taser off his belt and held it up where Elijah could see it. "Last warning, kid.
Stop struggling." Elijah couldn't stop. He was too scared. His voice was breaking as he shouted again, "I live here." Please, Mom."
And that was when Officer Mark Preston deployed the taser. The electrodes hit Elijah in the chest and 50,000 volts of electricity shot through his 12-year-old body. Elijah's legs gave out immediately. He dropped to the porch floor, his body convulsing, unable to control his movements, unable to scream because his muscles had locked up and he couldn't breathe. Linda was screaming from her porch.
"He's a child! Stop! Stop!" Preston didn't stop. He moved over Elijah's shaking body, flipped him onto his stomach, pulled his small arms behind his back, and locked handcuffs around his wrists.
Elijah was still twitching from the taser, still crying, his face pressed against the porch wood. Preston grabbed Elijah by the arm and dragged him down the porch steps, across the front lawn, and toward his patrol car. Elijah's legs dragged behind him because he still couldn't control them. The package with his name on it was still sitting on the porch where it had fallen. Linda was still recording, still shouting, "That boy lives there.
You just tasered a child on his own porch. I'm calling his mother." Preston opened the back door of his cruiser, shoved Elijah into the seat, slammed the door, and got into the driver's seat without saying another word. And as he drove away, Linda Hernandez stood on her porch with her phone in her hand, the video still recording, and dialed Rebecca Turner's number. Linda Hernandez stood on her porch with her phone pressed to her ear, her hands shaking as she watched Officer Mark Preston's cruiser disappear around the corner with Elijah in the back seat.
The phone rang twice before Rebecca Turner answered. "Hello?" Linda's voice came out in a rush, tight with anger and fear. "Rebecca, it's Linda from next door. A cop just arrested Elijah.