I've Been ARRESTED!?

"Whoa, whoa, hey, whoa, whoa, hey! Hold the phone! You're arresting me?" I asked in disbelief. The cop, who was holding my arms, nodded.
"You just stole a priceless artifact from the British Museum," he said, putting the handcuffs on my wrists.
"No, I didn't," I lied.
"Yes, you did," the cop told me.
"Um, no, I didn't. You have the wrong person," I argued.
"You're lying! I watched you steal it!" the cop exclaimed.
"No way! I didn't take anything!" I said. At that moment, the bit of the Rosetta Stone that I had chipped off fell out of my pocket. The cop looked at me.
"Whoa, hey, how did that get there?" I asked, but it was no use. Playing dumb wouldn't work. The cop picked up my chipping and put it in his pocket. I wanted to yell at him. That had my name on it. That's why I took it. I really needed that back. Also, I'm Egyptian. Not, like, from Egypt, but my grandfather was.
"THEIF!" I shouted, but the cop pushed me into the car and got in the front.
"Now, are you going to tell me why you wanted that stone?" he asked as we drove.
"I told you. I don’t know how that got there," I explained. "All I know is I go in to see the Rosetta Stone when you come barging in yelling, 'Stop right there!' I really have no idea why you're taking me away."
"Be quiet, prisoner," the cop said.
"Wait, hold on! I don't even get a trial?" I whined.
"No. Something this serious doesn't get a trial," he said.
"Aw, please?" I pleaded.
"No. Now shut up."
"That's not nice."
"I don't care." I slumped back against the seat, knowing that I was fighting a losing battle. When we got to the police station, I had two questions to ask. One: Do I have to share a cell with a dude? Two: Can I have my stone back? He got me out of the car and led me inside before I could ask my questions. And they were very important, mind you.
"Well, Harold, what have we got here?" the lady behind the desk asked, smiling at me. She probably thought I was some little kid that got busted for taking something from a store.
"Your name is Harold?" I asked.
"Be quiet. And I caught this one trying to steal a piece of the Rosetta Stone," Harold the Cop said. The lady nodded. She wasn't smiling anymore.
"Cell A52. Here's the key," she said, handing it to him. I was tempted to reach out and grab it, but I didn't. Harold led me down a series of hallways and through some doors. Finally we got to my cell.
"In you get," Harold said, removing my handcuffs and shoving me inside. I plopped down on the hard metal bench. I sighed, and my hair blew in front of my face. I have longish black hair, chocolate brown eyes, and dark-ish skin. I know, I say ish too much. I was wearing my gold earrings and my gold necklace with the symbol of Isis hanging from the chain.
They brought me my food, which was basically Spaceman Food. It tasted gross. That night, they brought me a blanket and a pillow. I set them up on the bench, and went to sleep. I woke up in the morning with a neck cramp and sore back. 'I hate jail,' I thought. After I had been there for about two weeks, they decided to give me my stone back. Finally, I can figure out what it says. I studied it closely. Soon, I had figured out the first part. 'The child of the Pharaohs shall be the one to save them all, or shall cause the downfall of a nation.' So far, so bad. This was not looking good for me. I kept reading. 'They are the world's only hope.' Wow. Fun.
This looks great! I either save the world, or destroy it. Easy as pie. NOT! Well, I'm stuck in jail, so that won't be happening any time soon. If you find this, my name is Zia Mohamed, and I need you to bail me out of jail! Please? I really would appreciate it. After you find this, and if you can't help, pass it on! I need to get out of here. Crap! The guard is coming! I have to go. Bye! Remember what I said!